


Wind-up Toy

by Yekith



Series: Wind-up Toy [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcoholism, Disability, Discrimination, Drama, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Mental Illness, Romance, cuteness, implied non-consensual (NOT between the main couple), some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:06:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 75
Words: 320,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yekith/pseuds/Yekith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Gerard was sure he was dispensable, street lights revealed something to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is 4 years old, and has been posted to several places before. I'm not sure there's anyone who might be interested in reading it and hasn't already, but I'm mostly doing it because I want all my fics here too. If someone took the chance to read it, I'd LOVE it if you let me know!
> 
> This was, in part, inspired by a few fics I read back then, but it mostly just came to my mind out of nowhere. The rest was maybe due to LONG nights-mornings laughing/ranting/virtually dancing/etc with my friend Nathy while listening to Alice Cooper. Alice has definitely something to do with this story, he owns the title and many lyrics I use.
> 
> Important!: Frankie's not 15, in spite of what you'll read in the first chapter.

_Now I know you've been seeing red,  
don't put a pistol to your head.  
Sometimes your answer's heaven sent,  
your way is so damn permanent._  
  
There I was, driving, on the way back from my dad's house. Just knowing that I had a three-day ride ahead seemed to make me even more tired than I already was.

"I should have stayed for the night," I muttered regretfully. But really, that wouldn't have been a good idea. The tension between my father and I during my stay had been unbearable. He'd been maybe right to be mad, I was mad at myself after all. I had fucked up badly over the last months. I had spent nearly all my money in the worst way. I had forgotten to pay my bills and was now riddled with debt. As if that wasn't enough, I'd ended up losing my job. I brought that on myself.  
  
Releasing one hand from the wheel, I searched for my cigarettes in the pocket of my worn-out jacket. I grabbed one and placed it amid my lips, using the blue lighter that had been laying on the passenger's seat to get the unhealthy stick ignited. I took a deep drag and let it out slowly, watching the smoke escape through the car's open window.

The street I was traversing was almost deserted, so I permitted myself a moment to relax and contemplate the night sky. Being only 8 p.m. the full moon wasn't too high yet, though it was particularly luminous. I enjoyed the cigarette, leaning my head on the back of the seat while the sweet summer breeze blew on my black hair.  
  
I laughed bitterly remembering my father's face when I told him what the main reason for my visit was. He had looked indignant when I asked for money to pay my debts. It was bound to happen, but I didn't have any other choice. I'd reached that conclusion after spending several days lying on my bed, just staring at the ceiling and pitying myself; using the little savings I had left to ruin my life even further, getting dangerously deeper into a path that I knew would be too hard to abandon later.  
  
I had suddenly reacted, realised that I'd screwed up enough. It was crucial to stop my fall before things got worse, I was still in time. I decided that I should get a new job and make it last. However, to try and start all over again, I needed money. And I didn't need it in a month but now, or else I'd end up homeless. My savings were barely sufficient to keep me fed.  
  
I couldn't ask my mom. She worked as a nurse and was always making miracles to get through each month, taking care of the house and helping my younger brother support his studies. I had thought of calling my father; but knowing him, this wasn't a subject to discuss over the phone. That's why I'd opted for talking to him in person.  
  
After my parents got divorced, my father was offered a new job that required him to move across the country. My brother Mikey and I weren't little kids anymore, so he'd considered it the best option.

Even though it was definitely far away, in this case the long trip would give me time to organize my thoughts.  
  
We hadn't seen each other in a year and my dad seemed blissful when I arrived, regardless of how shattered I looked. It was such a pity -yet no surprise- that his joy didn't last. His expression had grown gradually darker and darker as I confessed that I lost my job and explained how it'd occurred. He had stood up and paced the room furiously while I filled him in with the details, describing what I'd been up to lately. There was no use in lying if I wanted to change my life.  
  
He had screamed at me. He had cried and I'd joined him, repentant. I had begged him to forgive me, promised I would make the right choices this time; I only needed his help. He had finally given up and agreed.  
  
Right after leaving his house I'd driven to a bank to deposit the money, calling my best friend to ask him to withdraw it. I wanted my debts taken care of immediately, and I trusted Ray with my life.  
  
******

Honks woke me from my recollection, and only then I noticed that I had reached a main avenue. I was used to my quiet town, so the loud noises and bright lights of this bigger city made me feel uncomfortable, suddenly small and lost. All of the confidence I had been gathering on the way to my dad's, all of the things I'd tried to convince myself of, all of the plans I had made appeared to be slipping off my hands at that exact moment. I felt like giving up. I was nothing. I was convinced that if I died no one's life would change. Sure, my family would be sad, but they'd go on with their lives. My friends would be hurt, but they'd get over it eventually. No one _depended_ on me. I wasn't a person who was making a remarkable difference in anyone's life.  
  
My dark thoughts got interrupted by yet more honks mixed with angry screams. The traffic was stopped. When had I hit the brakes? I couldn't tell. I was amazed at how I was still be alive, bearing in mind that most of the time I wouldn't pay attention while driving.  
  
I stuck my head out of the window to see what was causing the jam, and what I saw was nothing I could have expected.  
  
There was a small person dancing among the cars, happily skipping from side to side of the avenue, twisting and turning with both arms wide open and making reverences in front of the cars' lights as if they were spotlights. It seemed to be someone very young, though I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. Long hair -at least shoulder length- covered the stranger's face, and the tight jeans and loose, red t-shirt weren't revealing much more.  
  
The drivers were getting impatient, yelling at the dancer and hitting their horns untiringly. Some, tired of waiting and being ignored, passed him/her by hazardously close. I felt a chill. The teen was apparently unaware of the danger, now jumping up and down and clapping hands. What was wrong with this individual? Was he/she on dru _g_ s?  
  
I couldn't endure the sight, couldn't stay there and watch someone die. Not thinking twice, I quickly parked my car at the side of the road and got out, running towards the person.

"Come on! Let's get you outta here, they'll run over you!"

"L-lemme dance!" answered a childish voice that didn't help me decipher the gender.

"You're stopping the traffic, this is not a place to dance," I continued patiently. I heard a choir of insults coming from the drivers.

"Of...of c-course it is! Th-this...this is a d-disco, don't you s-see? I...I s-saw it on TV!"

Seeing no other option, I picked him/her up by the waist and dragged him/her to the sidewalk kicking and screaming.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked, keeping my hand on their wrist now. No answer.

"Hey..." I reached out for the face and got the hair out of the way. I was met by a pair of bright, hazel eyes, pupils rapidly and continuously shifting. That wasn't normal. Perfect eyebrows, perfect nose, perfect skin. Too pretty to be a boy, but that's what he was. I knew it by the barely discernible shadow over his also perfect mouth.

He, who didn't look more than 15, smiled to me widely, extending the hand I wasn't holding. "H-hi! I'm F-frankie. W-wanna be my f-friend?" he said enthusiastically. As I shook his hand he jerked his head weirdly, like a nervous tic.

"I'm Gerard, pleased to meet you."

"I...I like y-your name," he stammered. With yet another smile he blinked, trying to focus his eyes but failing. I couldn't help mirroring the smile, he was endearing. Although _surely_ high.  


"You're coming with me until I know what's up with you, little man."  


I walked Frankie to the car, unlocked the passenger's seat and motioned for him to get in. He didn't fight me. Once I was also inside I stared at the boy. He seemed out of it; swinging his legs, scratching his head compulsively, murmuring under his breath and now and then shaking.

"Frankie...where do you live?" I asked. Nothing.

"Did you hear me?" I insisted. He jumped when I touched his hair, startled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Now that I got your attention, would you tell me where you live?"  
  
Frankie looked up at me, his eyes once again unable to stay focused. He seemed saddened for a moment, then grinned. "Y-you seen the giant f-flowers?"

"What...what giant flowers? Where?" I got confused by his random change of subject.

"Duh! Ev-everywhere!" he stated, visible irritated.

"Uh...no, sorry." My answer made him frown, but he kept silent. I went straight to the point. "Frankie...what did you take?"

"Wh-what?" he tilted his head.

"Did you...how do you say it...sniff something?"

He laughed. "D _-dogs_ sniff! I'm n-not a dog! I...I like th-them, though."

I paid attention to the way he talked. He mostly got stuck at the beginning of sentences and also struggled with some words in the middle, but spoke the rest rapidly.

"Let's see then..." I sighed loudly, arming myself with patience. "Did you inject yourself with something?"

"Uh? Y-you don't do th-that to yourself. No. N-no you d-don't. S-someone else d-does. But F-Frankie was a g-good boy. N-not necessary. Nope," he shook his head and continued to talk to himself.

"What do you...?"

"W-wanna candy?" he offered out of nowhere, showing me his empty hand.

"Maybe later, thanks..." I tried to smile. This Frankie boy was _really_ fucked up.

"K-kay!"

"Did you take any pills?" I proceeded with the interrogation.

Frankie opened his mouth and hit his head with his hand, as if he had suddenly remembered something important. "N-no I didn't! I...I sh-should have...I gu-guess. Yes. D-definitely. B-but there was n-no one to give them t-to me. I...I didn't take m-my pills. N-no I d-didn't," the boy affirmed worriedly.  
  
And that's when my theory completely changed. 


	2. Chapter 2

_All my friends live on the floor,  
tiny legs and tiny eyes.  
They're free to crawl under the door;  
and, and someday soon so will I._  
  
I watched Frankie grab his entangled, dark brown hair with both hands while he rocked his body back and forth. I'd have to leave my inquiry for later, evidently. Anyway, I had already come up with a more reasonable hypothesis: his state might not be self-provoked but the result of some kind of mental illness; and he hadn't been taking the needed medication.

"I d-didn't...I should h-have..." he murmured once and again. 

Not knowing what to do, I reached for his back to try and soothe him. That's when I noticed for the first time that he was carrying a small, black backpack.

"Shh, let me help you take this off so you can get more comfortable. Frankie...can you hear me, kiddo?" I made my voice as gentle as possible. He stopped moving, turned to me and nodded.

After I slid the very light bag off his shoulders and threw it to the backseat, Frankie seemed to relax. He closed his eyes -that were still set on me- tightly, opening them a couple of seconds later, his pupils always restless. With an angry sigh he shut them once again, keeping them like that for a little longer and breathing deeply. I waited in silence, unaware of whatever it was that he wanted to achieve. Finally, Frankie's eyelids slowly raised and he looked at me, grinning satisfied. His pupils were still now and I supposed that had been his goal; it made it easier for him to fix his eyes on me. He was cross-eyed, though. I reckoned that he was the cutest image I had seen in a long time.  
  
"Y-you are h-handsome," he complimented me, making me gasp. While he talked, his two hazel orbs resumed their dance. Annoyed, he quickly combed his long locks so they covered his face.

"Wh-why you s-smiling like th-that? M-my eyes, right? Ev-everybody laughs, I..."

"No," I brushed the hair back off his forehead, pushing it behind his ears. "I think your eyes are very pretty and I wasn't laughing, I was smiling because you're cute."

"I...I am?" he smiled.

"Definitely."

"I...I l-like cute-ness. D-dogs are c-cute. An-and little p-people who l-live in things, al-also," he whispered the last part secretly.

"Oh, I've never seen them, so I can't tell," I alleged, not entirely paying attention. I had remembered that we were parked at the side of an avenue, most probably in a wrong place. The last thing I wanted was to have problems with the cops.  
  
I took a few minutes to meditate, observing Frank trace patterns on the glass and sing in a low voice, his head jerking unintentionally once in a while. I couldn't leave him alone. It was clear that the boy had no notion of danger; he hardly had notion of reality. However, I was at the same time afraid of getting myself into trouble. I knew nothing about this Frankie.

"How old are you, boy?" I decided to ask, concerned by how young he looked.

"Uh?" he muttered, his forehead against the window.

"How old are you, Frankie?"

"I...I'm...I th-think...18. Y-yes, 18," he answered happily. I gave him an incredulous look.

"Are you _sure_?"

"Y-yes I'm s-sure! Th-the number on the c-cake said 18 and...and th-there were 18 candles, I c-counted them!" he waved his hands frenetically.

"Ok, I believe you then!" I decided to take his word for true and hope that it was, indeed, the truth. At least he wasn't a minor. Being found with a mentally ill minor would mean to fuck up a million times worse than with anything I'd done in the last months.  
  
"Well, we better get moving." I fastened Frankie's safety belt and he grumbled, instantly attempting to set himself free.

"N-no."

"Hey, hey, hey! Leave it on!" I ordered firmly.

"I...I d-don't l-like it."

"It's necessary to keep you safe."

"Ok," he pouted, kicking the air. "B-but I h-hate it. Y-you should kn-know that."

"Fine." I started the car and got back on the road.

"N-not fine, not f-fine, not fine...n-no."  
  
******

Minutes later, his constant murmurs were getting on my nerves. I wasn't going to be rude and tell him to stop, so I thought of bringing the conversation back and confirm my suspicions.

"Why don't you tell me something else about you, Frank?"

" _F-frankie_ ," he corrected me.

"Sorry, _Frankie_. Where do you live?"

"I...I d-don't know how to g-get there or the ad-address, no. But...b-but I don't th-think I live there a-anymore. No. M-maybe. Y-yeah. N-no..." he trailed off.

"Well...can you describe the place where you lived?" I helped him. 

He concentrated for some seconds, frowning. "It...it w-was very v-very big and...and al-almost all walls were wh-white. An-and I lived w-with many more k-kids. S-some were f-funny. O-others screamed a l-lot. It s-scared me. Yes. Oh, and l-lots of m-men and women with white c-clothes. Th-they took c-care of us," he looked down at his lap. I had been obviously right.

_"So it's just as I thought...he's crazy and lived in a mental institution."_ When I realized I had said that aloud, it was too late. Frank opened his eyes wide as dinner plates.

"Y-yeah, I think th-that's how they called the p-place but...I'M N-NOT FUCKING C-CRAZY, YOU MEAN AS-ASSHOLE! G-GRACE SAID I'M _S-SPECIAL_!" he screamed, his face red with rage, grabbing my jacket and shaking me. I wasn't expecting such a reaction. 

Struggling to keep the car from straying from the road, I got hold of Frank's arms with my free hand. "Frankie please be quiet, I'm driving!"

"Y-YOU CALLED ME C-CRAZY!"

"I'm _really_ sorry, I didn't mean to, I should have _never_ used that word. You're right, you're just special just like that Grace said. Who is she?"

"Y-you...you w-won't say it again? P-promise?

"I won't, never again, I promise."  
  
Although he continued to breath heavily, he gradually calmed down. I let go of his arms and he crossed them over his chest, sulking and scrutinizing me.

"I...I f-forgive you th-this time. On-only this th-time! And...G-grace...she w-was who looked af-after me. F-Frankie can't be al-alone." he shook his head rapidly. That last sentence sounded like he was repeating something he'd heard someone say. Even his tone changed.

"How long had you been in that place?" I pressed. Frank was now taking things out of an imaginary container in his hand and 'eating' them, undoubtedly tasting and enjoying them.

"Uh...a l-lot of time. B-but I think I w-was in a dif-ferent place when I w-was littler. N-not sure. But a l-lot of time in th-this one, y-yeah." It actually sounded as if he was speaking with his mouth full.

"Ah..."

"S-sure you d-don't want some c-candy? C-come on, try th-them, they're y-yummy!" he invited.

Deciding to play along, I made my fingers grab an invisible sweet and throw it into my mouth. Frank's gesture of approval was worth it.

"Mmm, you're right, it's good! Grape, isn't it?" I guessed. 

Frank sniggered. "Y-you don't have a p-palate, Gerard? It...it's s-strawberry!"

"Oh, right! I'm so stupid sometimes!" I smacked my forehead, making him giggle.  
  
Everything was silent for several minutes, the quietness occasionally interrupted by Frankie's unintelligible murmurs. He stirred on his seat, unable to stay quiet for too long. The city lights faded behind us as I drove the familiar route that would take me home. Not any time soon, though.  


"B-bored....bored b-bored bored bored..." Frankie sang. "T-tell your gnomes their j-jokes are not f-funny."  


"Uh..." I froze. What should I answer? Was it okay to play along when he was imagining things? Should I tell him that there was nothing there? I wished I knew what was the right way to proceed, but I didn't even know what his problem _exactly_ was. All I could do was to test the water. "What gnomes?"  


"Wh-what you mean what g-gnomes? Th-the ones living inside y-your glove box h-here! What others c-could be?" he answered matter-of-factly.  
  
It was too hard. Even thought the things Frankie said were rather funny and he seemed happy with his hallucinations, I felt sorry for him. I was afraid of screwing up, yet I had to try different options.  


"Frankie...there's nothing there," I said softly, spying him sideways to see his reaction.  


"Wh-what? Th-they live in your c-car and you never s-saw them? W-well, stop l-looking at the r-road and watch th-them, then!" he spat exasperated. 

Checking that it was safe to do so, I turned my head and looked inside the spot Frank was pointing at.  


"Th-they s-seem to like y-you!" he laughed.  


"There are no gnomes there, Frankie. It's all in your head." I caressed his hair. He knocked my hand off.

"TH-THEY'RE NOT IN MY H-HEAD, TH-THEY'RE IN THE G-GLOVE BOX! A-AND YOU'RE F-FUCKING BLIND IF...IF YOU C-CAN'T S-SEE THEM! SH-SHUT UP! WH-WHY YOU DO TH-THIS TO ME, UH? OF...OF C-COURSE THEY'RE TH-THERE!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, stammering more than ever and hitting his fists against the back of his seat. But as furious and nervous as he acted, he still wasn't crying. I hadn't seen him cry so far.  
  
I admitted to have made the wrong choice. The most advisable thing to do until I could find out more about Frankie's problem, was to keep him calm and not antagonize him.  


"Wait, I see them now! They were hiding from me, that's all! Or maybe they were having fun with you, you know? They wanted you to think that you were the only one who could see them."  


"Oh, f-fuckers!" Frank straightened up and smiled, sticking his little finger into the 'gnome-house'. "Wh-what you th-think of them?"  


"They seem to be funny guys!" I improvised.  


"Th-they are...u-usually."  
  
******  


All the screaming made Frankie tired and soon he got comfortable on his side, just staring out of the window.  


"Did you...escape from that place?" I wanted to know. 

His big eyes scanned me briefly, but he diverted them right away. "N-no! I...I l-liked it there."  


"Then what were you doing alone in the street?"  


"W-waiting...but she n-never came b-back for me." he rustled.


	3. Chapter 3

_Daddy won't discuss me  
what a state I must be.  
Mommy couldn't stand  
living with a wind-up toy._

"She? Who?" I sensed that something might be _very_ wrong. 

At first, Frank didn't seem to hear me; he kept on playing with a loose thread on his jeans. I waited, since I didn't think it wise to push him. After a while he raised his head, blinking rapidly.

"M-my mom," he simply stated before going back to his task, a little hole beginning to form on the right knee of his pants.  


A million thoughts went through my head. Not one of them was good. Why was a boy like him alone in the street if he had a mother? How had he gotten there? It wasn't my intention to upset him, but I needed more information if I was going to take him with me.

"And...how did you get to the place where I found you? How did you leave the institution...and why?" I continued to interrogate him, trying not to let my interest in that mysterious boy make me forget that I was in the middle of a treacherous route. That part of the road was poorly illuminated.  


After uttering the question, or better said bunch of questions, I thought that I was, perhaps, pestering the poor kid. It looked like he had a big enough mess in his head by nature. 

I was about to reformulate my quiz when Frankie spoke. "M-my mom t-took me out of the p-place where I w-was. S-said she c-couldn't pay f-for it or...or the p-pills." He stopped to look outside and squealed out of nowhere. "Awwww, l-look!"  


"What's it?" I followed his gaze to find out what had amazed him like that, and all I saw were the city lights in the distance. Was it just it? Was he imagining something else? It was hard to tell with Frankie. "The lights?"  


"Y-yeah! S-so pretty," he answered in a soft voice, his face glued to the glass and his mouth hanging open in awe.  


"Hadn't you seen them like that before?"  


"N-no. Wowww..." he shook his head. How could I be so stupid? Of course he hadn't. He'd spent his whole short life locked up in a mental institution. Nearly _everything_ from the outside world was new to him.  


"They're very pretty indeed."  


"Yes...NO! G-go back W-wanna see!" he complained when the car made a turn and the spectacle was out of sight.  


"I can't, Frankie, I'm sorry. We need to take this path to go home. But we'll pass other cities by on our way, so you'll be able to see something like that again, ok?"  


"Oh...k-kay," he nodded cheerfully.  


"Frank. Uh...sorry, Frankie, can I ask you something else?" I shot. I was too intrigued for my own good. And exhausted, and nervous, needing something to keep me from falling asleep on the wheel.  


"Yep."  


"You told me that your mom took you out of the institution because she couldn't pay for it anymore, right?"  


"Y-yeah. Or...or f-for my p-pills. I...I n-need my pills. H-head's a mess. Al-always is...b-but now's w-worse. B-bad...bad bad b-bad bad bad. N-not good. B-bad." He ran his fingers through his hair in all directions.  


"Shh...don't think about that now. We'll see what can be done when we arrive," I quietened him, freeing one hand to accommodate his long, slightly curly hair. "Was your mother taking you home with her?"  


"I...I gu-guess. She...she t-told Grace sh-she would. B-but...maybe no? 'C-cause...'cause th-then...why she l-left me th-there?"  


While Frank was talking, I studied him. He looked pensive, puzzled, trying to comprehend what had happened. Yet not sad. He had enough reasons to be sad and cry his eyes out from what I'd gotten to know -or guess- so far. But he was either too brave or his mental illness didn't let him show some emotions.

He was now hitting his own head with his palm, not exactly gently.  


"Where did she leave you? And please don't do that, kid, you're gonna hurt yourself. Calm down...there." I grabbed his hand and kept it in mine, rubbing it with my thumb. He took a deep, shivering breath and collected himself once again.  


"Sh-she...she d-drove...and drove...a l-lot and then she s-stopped. She...she t-told me to g-get outta the c-car and said 'H-have to go s-somewhere and c-can't take you w-with me. W-wait here 'til I c-come back f-for you.' And...and sh-she left. Sh-she didn't k-kissed me goodbye. N-nope. M-moms kiss their k-kids on TV, she d-didn't. W-weird."  


The way in which he'd talk for moments...it was mechanical. Besides his stutter, something else was particularly odd. He was telling me about how his own mother had left him as if it was just a story. And the only detail out of the woman's behavior that Frank had though weird was the lack of a goodbye kiss.  


I felt my eyes watering. I wished I could stop the fucking car and hug Frank. Then I realised that I wasn't even sure if he'd let me. Maybe he didn't like to be hugged or wasn't used to it and would freak out.  


"So she left you around the place where I found you?"  


"Y-yes...right n-next to the d-disco," he smiled. _He was smiling_. So confusing.  


A consequential idea suddenly popped up in my mind: what if that event had _just_ taken place and Frank's mother was actually going to return? Although...which mother would leave her mentally unstable kid, who had never been 'outside' before, alone in the street waiting?  


"Frankie, how long had it been since your mom left by the time I met you at the...disco?"  


"Uh I...I d-dunno," he shrugged, tossing his head. That nervous tic was becoming stronger. Anxiety, most probably.  


"Try to think about it, it's important."  


"L-let me th-think...it w-was...morning. Y-yeah morning, 'c-cause I woke up r-really really early th-that day. I...I d-don't like to w-wake up early. N-not at all. Yes...I th-think it was still m-morning when she left. And I w-waited. And...and night c-came and...then it w-was day again. Yes. An-and night once a-again and...th-then I was b-bored and, and I w-walked...and I saw it: a d-disco!"  


I was going to tell him that the street wasn't a disco, it was dangerous for him to think that; but I was left pondering about the amount of time he'd been there waiting: _almost two days_. Almost two fucking days in the same spot until he finally moved, possibly because the medication had totally worn off; everything began to distract him and he couldn't think straight anymore.  


"Y-you...you think I sh-should go back th-there and wait m-more?" he asked sincerely, and I felt my heart break. "M-maybe I d-didn't wait en-enough?"  


There was no way that bitch could have ever thought of going back for Frank. As if throwing her own son into that place when he was little hadn't been enough, now she had abandoned him in the street. She didn't give a fuck about him, didn't even try to find a safe place. She didn't care if he got killed by a car or any other terrible thing happened to him. How could she? How could she look at Frankie's face and do it? So young, so helpless, so confused, so sweet and pretty...  


"Tell me...did your mom visit you at that place?" I let that question out terrified of the answer.

"N-no, hadn't s-seen her b-before. I...I knew she w-was my mom cause G-grace told me. G-gerard...you th-think I should go b-back and wait?" he questioned. My fear was justified, and Frank had no clue of how impassible and heartless his mother had been.  


"No, Frankie, I don't think she'll come back for you. I'm sorry," I said more bluntly than I had intended. I was so furious.  


"Oh...k-kay," he shrugged emotionless.  


"But don't worry, I'll take care of you and won't ever leave you alone," I promised, wanting to make him feel safe. I was certain that he was scared and upset, even if he wasn't able to demonstrate it.  


He closed his eyes, repeating his 'eye-movement-stopping routine'. When seconds later I turned my face to him, I was confronted by those shiny pupils drawn towards the lacrimals, attracted to each other. Without discontinuing his stare, Frank loosened his seat belt. He helped himself up with the back of my seat, came closer, and kissed my cheek. Briefly, childishly. Then he sat back on his place, refastening the seat belt.

It took me several minutes to recover from what had happened and the strange feeling in my stomach. Something he'd previously said came back to me: 'You're handsome.' Bad timing.  
I had to push that out of my head. Frankie would say random things all the time and sometimes didn't even seem to know why. What the fuck was I thinking? What was wrong with me? Only one thing was relevant: Frankie was obviously able to show his feelings, he just had his own way to do it.

Once our serious talk was forgotten, Frankie found new entertainment conversing with someone or something on the car's floor.  


"N-nope, I d-didn't eat yet. N-no! _Y-you_ eated my l-last sandwich! W-well, then it...it w-was one l-like you!" he argued. It hit me that he'd presumably had nothing to eat in hours, if not days! 

I took a look around us, then at my clock. We had been traveling for three hours. It was about eleven in the night and we were luckily nearing the 'civilization' again.  


"Well, Frankie, I think it's time for dinner."  


"Yay! I...I'm h-hungry! B-but they can c-come with us?" he pointed at the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

_I got a baby's brain and an old man's heart.  
Took eighteen years to get this far.  
Don't always know what I'm talkin' about.  
Feels like I'm livin in the middle of doubt._

"Who do you want to bring with us?" I asked while maneuvering the car into the first gas station I saw. "The gnomes?"  


"N-no. Not the g-gnomes, th-the little p-people!" Frank said. He was confusing me so much. How could I follow his deliriums if I didn't even understand them?  


"Aren't they the same?"  


"Wh-what you m-mean?"  


"The little people you're talking about...aren't they the gnomes?" I stopped the car and changed my position so I could see Frank better. 

He grabbed his head and growled. "Y-you're fucking k-kidding me, Gerard? D-don't you s-see them? Y-you think they l-look like damn g-gnomes, uh?" he spat angrily. It was kind of funny how he looked so innocent but could be rather foulmouthed when provoked.  


"Uh well, they're so tiny that I can't really distinguish the difference. Would you tell me?"  


"AGH! G-GNOMES ARE F-FUNNY LOOKING WITH B-BIG NOSES AND WEAR P-POINTY HATS! AND TH-THIS PEOPLE JUST L-LOOK LIKE N-NORMAL PEOPLE BUT VERY V-VERY S-SMALL! G-GET IT N-NOW?" he shouted, trying to keep his stare on me as much as his troublesome eyes allowed. I was astounded.  


"Yes, I do get it now. Thanks for explaining it to me, Frankie! And of course they can come with us," I assented while getting out of the car.  


"Oh, th-thank you! Haha, l-look at them j-jumping!" Frank had already freed himself from the belt and was kneeling on the floor, totally amused. I walked over to his side and opened the door. Then I offered him my hand which he took with a giant smile, hopping out of the car. I held the door open, remembering Frank's guests.  


"Is everybody out? It looks like it."  


"Y-yeah they are," he nodded. I headed for the station's diner still holding his hand, terrified of him running away and into the traffic or something equally dangerous.  


"If someone asks something I'll tell them you're my little brother. So don't deny it, ok?" I instructed Frank.  


"K-kay. B-brother."  


While entering the place I guardedly studied our surroundings. You could tell it had once been a fashionable diner; but the formerly light blue walls were now a dirty gray and the white tiles on the floor were soiled and sticky, making walking through the diner a disgusting experience. Frank noticed it too, but seemed to be entertained with the 'squeesh-squeesh' noise his sneakers produced with each step. The roof looked as if it was about to fall in and there were no lamps, just a few light bulbs hanging from loose wires. Tables and chairs were made of worn out, blue plastic.

The smell of beer reached my nostrils. I was craving it. I knew I shouldn't yield but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to resist. Maybe just one. Couldn't do any harm.  


"Hey, fag! You could have chosen a better place to bring your dolly, don't you think?" a drunken voice drew me out of my quandary. It was followed by a choir of laughter coming from the other customers.  


"He's my brother for your information," I replied shortly.  


"Of course!" another one vociferated. 

I looked over at them for the first time. Sweaty, hairy motorcyclists with their obligatory leather jackets, even when it was midsummer. Then you had the truck drivers, better suited to the warm climate with their sleeveless shirts. They were all drinking beer from tall glasses. I was licking my dry lips when I heard Frank's voice.  


"Y-yes, he's my b-brother. It's t-true!"  


"If...if you s-say s-so...hahaha! Oh, how s-sweet!" the fattest of them joked, making fun of him.  


"What is this little guy on? Look at his eyes!" the one next to him added.

I acknowledged Frankie squeezing my hand. He was trembling, eyes fixed on the floor and his breathing loud. I felt tempted to say something back or, even better, punch the fat one; but I opted for being realistic: I had no chance of surviving. Instead of that, I dragged Frank to the other side of the place where the ramshackle counter was. He was applying resistance, glaring at the men with loathing.

"Wh-why you d-didn't let me k-kick their asses?" he asked me once we were in the line to get our food.  


"What? Are you serious, Frankie? Don't you see those guys? They're huge!"  


"M-my army of l-little people w-would have b-beated them!" he rolled his eyes, standing proudly with his hands on his hips. I couldn't help laughing. He didn't like it.  


"D-don't fucking l-laugh or I...I will t-tell them to at-attack you too!"  


"Oh no, please don't. I'll stop laughing but no fights, ok? We're here to eat." I forced a straight face.  


"F-fine. B-but they're h-hungry so you b-better get them s-something," he pouted. I replayed his words in my mind. Was he meaning that I had to buy food for his little friends too?  


"Frankie...I can't buy something for them."  


"Wh-why not? They're h-hungry!" he was indignant.  


 "Because I don't have enough money," I explicated.  


"B-but...they're p-pretty small! J-just one b-burger for all w-will be enough!" Frankie insisted. 

I rubbed my face, annoyed. Not because of him though; I had it clear that I couldn't blame him for being noisy. I was annoyed by the situation. I wanted to please him, he wasn't really asking for much, but I was completely broke.  


"I'm sorry, I can't even afford that. We still have more than two days ahead, so I need to save. Don't they have money of their own?"  


Frank hugged himself and began to walk in circles, saying something that I couldn't decipher. Then he stopped in front of me.

"N-NO! THEY D-DON'T! D-DAMN IT! P-please buy them s-something or they will e-eat my food!"  


"Frankie, please don't scream! They won't eat your food, I'll make sure they don't, ok?"  


"It...it's n-not ok. IT'S N-NOT OK! J-just one s-sandwich?"  


"I can't!"

The argument continued with Frankie repeating the reasons why I should comply and me doing my best to not lose my patience. People were giving us weird looks.  


"C-come on, G-gerard...pleeeease!"  


 "NO, Frank. Stop it, I told you I can't, I'm sorry," I said for the thirtieth time, at the brink of losing my temper.  


"Is there a problem here?" a female voice asked. I was met by a red haired girl behind the counter. I hadn't even realized that we'd reached the front of the line. She was very young and pretty and was smiling at us. I thought of how much of a contrast she was to this depressing place.  


"Uh no, nothing's wrong," I quickly answered. 

Frank glanced at me and then at her. "L-lies! Th-there _is_ s-something wrong! H-he doesn't w-want to buy another b-burger for my l-little friends!" he intervened, pointing down. 

The girl, whose tag I then saw read 'Jane', let her eyes follow Frank's hand and she looked completely lost. Taking advantage of the fact that I was standing behind him at the moment, I caught Jane's attention and signaled my head, rotating my finger to mean that Frankie wasn't sane.  


 "I'd love to, but I don't have enough money," I said once again. 

Jane reached over the counter and caressed Frankie's cheek, startling him. "Don't worry, sweety, I think I have something for them. A while ago a customer left his sandwich untouched. I can't sell it again of course, but it'd be such a pity to throw it to the trash can. I'm sure your little friends will give it better use, don't you think?"  


 "R-really?" Frank's face lightened up with Jane's words and he applauded. I felt a pinch of jealousy.  "Oh, th-thanks! S-see how h-happy you made th-them!"  


"You're welcome!" she replied, addressing the invisible people before changing her attention back to us. "Now what do you two want?"  


"I'd say two cheeseburgers with fries. What do you think, Frankie?" I ran my hand through his dirty hair.  


"Yeah! W-with...with C-coke!" he nodded eagerly.  


"I'll have a..." I doubted, the smell of beer calling me again as a man next to Jane was pouring some into a glass. I stared at the yellowish liquid hypnotized, tightening my fists. But no. I couldn't. I wasn't alone anymore, I had someone to take care of now. "I'll have a coke too."  


"Ok, then! Go have a seat, I'll bring you your food when it's ready. Oh, and...you better stay on this side. The tough guys over there...they're really harmless, but can be a real pain in the ass. I know about that," the young girl commented. 

Frank giggled at her last remark. "Y-yes they are!"  


We found an empty table at the back and sat down. The diner seemed to be virtually separated in two. Or well, not the diner but its clientele. The people around us, on that side, were all either families -some even with kids- or teenagers.

Nothing was said at first, Frankie making origami out of the paper napkins. He eventually got bored of that, shifting his position every ten seconds.  


"G-gerard, you h-have a g-girlfriend?" he suddenly questioned. Not exactly something I wanted to answer, it had _never_ been my favorite subject. 

I'd had two relationships in my life. Only Ray had found out about my first, important love. My second and last attempt hadn't gotten too far and it'd ended because it was the best for both of us.  


Frank tapped his fingers on the plastic surface, waiting.  


"Uh no, I don't," I responded simply. "Do you?"  


"Eww n-no. I...I d-don't like girls! W-well, maybe as f-friends, just s-some of them. Th-they're mean."  


"Why?"  


"Th-they bite! And...and s-some kick and p-punch!" he explained doing all the mimics. I tried to hide my laugh. The girls at that mental institution were surely violent. "And...and they h-have boobs! Ewww."  


"You have a boyfriend, then?" I feared his reaction after I asked him that, but he just blushed.  


"N-no...not any-more." He sounded unsure and uneasy. "I...I u-used to b-but...we d-didn't do many th-things boyfriends do. He..."

His sentence was cut off abruptly when he looked at the floor and screamed. Then he jumped onto his chair, shaking from head to toes and gasping for air.  


"Frankie...Frankie, what happens?" I ran to him, grabbing him by the arms. He kept on staring at the floor, terrified, his eyes pacing more rapidly than ever. "Please, tell me so I can help you."  


He raised his head for just a second and saw me. Gulping, he started to pull at his hair. 

"Th-there are c-cockroaches. L-lots of them. Ev-everywhere. D-DON'T YOU S-SEE THEM? A-ALL OVER THE F-FLOOR. L-LOOK! I...I H-HATE THEM! P-PLEASE M-MAKE THEM GO AWAY...P-PLEASE. Pleasepleasepleaseplease," he shouted, hysterical. Everybody was watching us and also checking the floor. Although it would have been highly plausible in a filthy place like that, there were no bugs to be seen. This would get us into real trouble if I didn't do something.  


"Frankie...this time I'm serious, there's _nothing_ there. Please, try to calm down," I made an attempt, but he just pushed me away.  


"I...I'M N-NOT AN ID-IDIOT, I SEE TH-THEM! T-TELL SOMEONE TO M-MAKE THEM L-LEAVE NOW! L-LOTTA C-COCKROACHES! L-LOTS OF THEM!  


"I..." In that moment I saw Jane coming over with our food. She got close to me and spoke in my ear.  


"I'm so sorry, but if he doesn't calm down now the owner will ask you to leave. Customers are walking away..."  


"I know..." I sighed loudly. Raising my voice as much as I could I said: "Please, ladies and gentlemen, don't leave. There are no cockroaches. Don't pay attention and just continue eating, I'll take care of the situation!"  


"B-but but..WHY YOU S-SAID T-THAT? I S-SEE THEM. TH-THEY'RE THERE!"  


"I just told them that so they wouldn't go away. Now come here." I reached out for him.  


"N-NO WAY! N-NOT GONNA G-GO DOWN...P-PLEASE D-DON'T MAKE ME! P-PLEASE, GERARD, PLEASE!" He was so frightened that it was seriously worrying me. So far his hallucinations had been about nice things that would only amuse him or even keep him entertained. This one was different.  


"I'll hold you, you won't touch the ground, I promise."

He then threw his arms at me and I lifted him from the chair. He wrapped his legs around my waist and hid his face against my shoulder, trembling.  


"It's ok, it's ok. Stay like this. Jane will get rid of the bugs and I'll tell you when they're gone," I whispered, holding him tight. 

He began to sob, for the first time since I had found him. His body felt so good close to mine, and I knew more than ever that I wanted to protect him, to help him. For the first time in my life I felt needed.  


"I'll do that right now, I'll chase them away," Jane assured Frankie, though she was really just standing there. "They're already running away from my broom!"  


"T-they scare me t-too much I..."  


"I know Frankie, I know. They're leaving. Almost gone and...no more bugs! Look!" I said, hoping that my plan would work. He took a careful look around and smiled, wiping away the tears with the back of his hand.  


"Thanks again," I told Jane, making Frank sit back on the chair.  


"Enjoy your meal," she replied with a grin and walked away.

All the contrary to a minute before, Frank now appeared to be in a zombie state, tired and limp. Even his pupils were quiet, close to each other. I placed his food in front of him and, seeing that he wasn't reacting, I made his right hand hold the burger.  


"O-oh...yeah," he muttered. He was going to bite it but instead grabbed the ham and cheese sandwich from the white tray and disappeared with it under the table, leaving the meal on the floor.  


"What are you doing?"  


"A-all for you," he spoke to his tiny friends. Only then he started to eat his own food, or better said devour.  


At one point he extended his hand to get a hold of the glass. It was evident that he had trouble to calculate the distance since it took him several tries when he'd just hold the air until he finally succeeded. Of course I was no expert, but I presumed that was due to sight problems, it most probably had to do with his eye deviation.

He didn't speak at all for minutes, his mouth was too occupied. He ate half of my fries, but I didn't mind, the poor boy seemed to be starving. Every time I'd see him reach out for the glass of Coke I'd hand it to him to make things easier.  


"G-gerard?" he broke the silence while I was finishing my drink.  


"Yeah?"  


"I...I'm g-gonna live w-with you?"  


I closed my eyes, meditating. Was there any other choice? Would my conscience let me go on with my life if I did any other thing? What could I do, anyway? Report him to the police? He'd end up in a public place, a fucking madhouse, tied up to a bed or pumped full of sedatives so he wouldn't be a nuisance. I could never let that happen. Not to Frankie. I had only known him for about five hours but it felt meant to be. He had been sent to me, or I had been sent to him. Anyhow, we needed each other.  


"Yes, you'll live with me." I secretly hoped he'd come to me and give me a big hug. He didn't.  


"K-kay," he barely smiled. His frequent lack of reaction was something I would have to get used to.

It was near 1a.m. when we left the diner and headed for the bathroom. Besides doing the usual stuff, I had decided that Frank needed some cleaning. He was beginning to stink a little bit. I was pleased to see that there was soap.  


"You have a clean shirt in your bag, don't you?"  


"Y-yep."  


"Ok. Then take this one off and wash yourself in the sink. Neck and armpits!" I specified. 

He looked offended. "I...I kn-know how to d-do it, YOU F-FOOL! B-but...you w-wash my hair? It...it's g-greasy," he asked the question displaying his best angelic face, it melted me. His hair was, indeed, greasy.  


"Of course I will."  


Twenty minutes and a water-war later we got out of the bathroom. Frank was now wearing a black t-shirt with Jack from The Nightmare Before Christmas on it, and his wet hair was stubbornly falling on his face. We walked to the car, ready to continue our trip. I let go of Frank's hand to fight with the car's door, which had decided to act up.  


"Stay here. Don't move!" I commanded him.  


"K-kay."  


Once I managed to solve the issue, I turned around to coax Frank into the vehicle.  


"Oh my God! Frank! Where the fuck is he?" 


	5. Chapter 5

_Welcome to my nightmare,  
welcome to my breakdown,  
I hope I didn't scare you,  
that's just the way we are when we come down.  
We sweat and laugh and scream here,  
'cause life is just a dream here,  
you know inside you feel right at home..._

Desperate, I scanned the parking lot. I wasn't able able to descry Frankie from where I stood so I locked the car again, hoping that it'd let me in later. I ran along the place and checked in between trucks, calling Frank's name.

"G-GERARD! I'M..." I heard him scream and then nothing.

I followed the sound of his voice and it led me behind the biggest red truck.  Approaching that spot, I saw one of the big guys we had seen inside earlier holding Frank by the hair. Another one was standing in front of the boy, menacing him with his fist while he covered his mouth with the other hand to stop him from screaming.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Don't you see he's just a kid?" I burst into the scene. Frank definitely looked at least three years younger to me and I guessed anyone would think the same, which made this situation more inexcusable.

The one who had a grip on Frank's hair smirked. " _Your_ kid...came to us to tell us we're _a bunch of ugly motherfuckers_."

The second man grabbed Frankie's neck now. Frank was struggling to say something and his eyes were huge with fear as much as with anger. He tried to kick them, but they systematically avoided his feet. Again, I had enough brains to know that if I tried to free him by force both of us would end up badly injured.

"And just because of that you're gonna hit him?" I asked.

"Yes, and because we're bored. Got a problem, Snow White?" the tallest guy provoked.

"Actually yes, I _do_ have a problem. But you have a bigger one if you need to beat up mentally ill kids to feel more _macho_." I expected a punch right after I said that. Maybe what I was doing wasn't much more fortunate than using force.

But instead of retaliating, the shorter man muttered a 'shit' and let go of Frank's hair. "We didn't know." he added.

"Oh, you _didn't know_ , of course! Tell me...even if you didn't know that detail, shouldn't it be enough with the fact that he's much younger and smaller than you?" I continued, seeing as the second guy hadn't released Frank yet. What's more, he was restraining him harder.

"Come on! What does it matter? The little brat still insulted us," he spoke to his friend.

"Let him fucking go! He's not aware of what he says, asshole!" I spat at him angrily.

"If he doesn't know how to behave then keep him locked up, I don't fucking care!" the man went on, finding it more and more difficult to keep Frank quiet. The kid was pretty strong for someone his size.

"He has the same right to walk around as pricks like you. _More_ , I'd say," I shot back. I didn't care anymore whether they'd like it or not.

"Joe, let the kid go already," his partner demanded. Joe just stared at him. "Leave him the fuck alone, come on! We don't want trouble."

Before the Joe guy could have time to consider the request, Frank achieved to rotate his body enough for his knee to collide with the man's balls.

"FUCKING CRAZY SON OF A BITCH!" he shouted, finally loosening the grip on his pray. I took Frankie by the hand and we ran to the car without looking back.

"That was awesome, Frankie!" I laughed, opening the door with no problem this time. "But please, don't _ever_ run away like that again, ok? You scared me to death when I didn't see you behind me anymore."

"I...I won't d-do it again, p-promise. F-forgive me?" he looked down, seemingly sorry. I knew that chances were he'd do it again, since he didn't always have decision or consciousness over his acts. But I needed to let him know how much he had scared me. Same as he needed to promise me that, I guessed.

 "Of course I forgive you. Now come on, get into the backseat so you can sleep more comfortably, you need it," I told him. He was yawning and rubbing his eyes like a little child.

I was about to start the car when he tapped me on the shoulder.

"Yes? Do you need something?"

"I..." he bit his lower lip shyly.

 "Tell me," I encouraged him.

"Wh-when I don't f-feel well or...or I'm t-too nervous Grace stays with m-me until I fall as-asleep..." he said, almost a whisper, twitching. "An-and I...I can't s-sleep without my p-pills, I'm s-scared. The m-monsters I...NO! C-come here and s-stay with me?"

'No' wasn't a possible answer. But we were already delayed and still at the same gas station. What if those two men came after us?

My doubts were erased when I saw two trucks leave and could at least distinguish Joe in one of them. Maybe we could stay there a little longer until Frankie was asleep. Sighing, I climbed over my seat and sat on the back, gesturing for Frank to lie down and put his head on my lap.

"Is it ok like this?"

"Y-yeah."

He suddenly seemed so absent, lost in his own mind, confused. His right hand tensely open, rubbing his forehead continuously. His breath was becoming more elaborated. Without saying a word I took his hand and caressed it, running my other one through his hair.

"Th-they...no. There, y-yes, maybe. O-outside. Y-yes they might c-come. You sh-should look. We. N-no. I...I d-don't know. Or...no....th-they..." he babbled. I paid attention to see if he was talking to some imaginary being, but it didn't look like it. His eyes weren't set on anything in particular.

"Frankie, what are you talking about?"

"Wh-what?" he looked up at me.

"You were speaking...what was it about?"

"Th-that. Th-them...that th-thing. I...I d-don't know. M-mess," he rambled, lifting his free hand to hit his head. I stopped him and held it together with the other one.

"No, Frankie. You won't fix anything by doing that, you know? You're exhausted, you really need to sleep. So don't try to think about anything right now. Close your eyes, relax and keep your mind blank," I hushed him, still brushing his moist hair with my fingers. He only nodded and let his eyelids fall, smiling faintly when I kissed his forehead.

A couple of minutes later his body felt much looser and he was breathing leisurely. Deducing he had finally fallen asleep I closed my eyes too, engraving in my mind the idea that I couldn't sleep for too long. I had always been able to sleep for short whiles at will.

I woke up one hour later, only not spontaneously. Although still fast asleep, Frank was moving around violently in his dream. Kicking, twisting, whimpering and mumbling random words.

"N-no, stay! Y-you always l-leave. M-mean. He...h-he's better..." he spoke forthwith, and then went quiet once again. He would intrigue me for moments, since I couldn't be totally sure whether he was talking nonsense or not.

My watch read 4:15 am. I carefully slid my legs from below Frank's head, replacing them with a hoodie I'd discarded back there. I had to keep on driving, I couldn't spend any more time parked. I started the car and decided to speed as much as it was permitted.

When I had first planned the trip, I thought I'd better drive slowly, specially on my way back. There wouldn't be any hurry and I needed to clear my mind. Now it was different. I wanted to arrive home as soon as possible, give Frankie a more tranquil place and try to help him. If I could go faster -at least for some hours now and then- I'd get to my town earlier than expected.

The heat had lessened and a cool air was blowing. It played with my long hair and filled my lungs, reviving me. I was still kinda sleepy but the feeling was soon vanishing. Since I couldn't rest my body I rested my mind instead, annulling all thoughts and just enjoying the moment. I loved driving.

For seven hours I drove without slowing down, only making some short stops to rest. Frankie kept on sleeping. Once in a while I'd spy him through the little mirror to make sure that he was okay. Besides some restless moments every couple of hours he appeared to be fine. By then I was sure that I'd not only retrieved lost time but even gained some extra hours.

It was 11 in the morning when I turned on the radio. After so many hours of silence I was in need of some noise; I missed Frankie's voice. Going through the stations and finding nothing good, I chose to listen to one of my old Iron Maiden cassettes. I kept the volume low, checking on Frank once again, a peaceful expression on his face. Cursing the summer sun that was toasting my left side, I followed the drums with my finger on the wheel; banging my head and singing along softly. Songs played one after another and I got more and more into it.

"Oopsss! B-blood!" I heard a voice say, and not exactly in the song.

"What the fuck?" I accommodated the rear-view mirror and looked back. "OH, SHIT!"

Frankie was still semi-lying, but he wasn't sleeping anymore. He was holding a pair of scissors, scratch-writing on the inner side of his extended left arm. I didn't even remember having left those things there.

I pulled out of the road and stopped at record speed, not caring at all where. Kneeling on my seat I looked at the boy, who smiled nervously. He had been sloppily carving his name on his arm. Up to the 'k' it was just grazes, but he had cut a little deeper for the 'i', dangerously close to his wrist. Blood was dripping from it into his shirt.

"Frankie, give me that," I ordered, reaching out for the scissors.

"N-no!" he answered, preparing to go on with his task.

"Frankie, please give me the scissors, what you're doing is not right, you could hurt yourself badly. Damn...I don't even know how deep you cut already!" I insisted, trying to keep calm. I didn't want him to freak out while having a sharp object in his hands. After all, I barely knew him and his mental problems.

"N-NO! I...I'm f-fine...leave me al-alone, I n-need to f-finish!" He crawled to the opposite side of the seat, as far from me as possible. I jumped over the backrest and immobilized his hand without warning.

"Open your hand."

"N-NO! N-NONONONONONONO!" he yelled, shaking his head and pushing me away with his legs.

"FRANK! I'M FUCKING SERIOUS, GIVE ME THE FUCKING SCISSORS _NOW_!" I raised my voice. It was absolutely necessary, I'd ran our of ideas.

He looked up scared, his eyes wide open. "Y-you...you're s-screaming to m-me, I d-don't like it. And...and you c-called me Frank," he cried.

I got closer and hugged him. At first he resisted me, but finally gave in.

"I'm sorry, Frankie...but I can't let you hurt yourself, I couldn't let this pass. I _had_ to stop you. I didn't mean to scream and I'll try to not do it again." I massaged his back. He wrapped his arms around me and I heard the scissors fall on the seat. I quickly grabbed them.

As soon as Frank noticed he launched himself towards my hand. "G-give them back! G-give them b-back!"

"No way. They're leaving." I threw them through the window.

"NO! H-how the fuck I'm g-gonna finish my t-tattoo now?" he protested and hit my chest with his fists. His blood was all over my jacket now.

"Stop it, Frankie! Come on, kid. I'll take you to get a real tattoo in the future, what do you think?" I cursed myself for speaking without thinking first. I honestly didn't believe that would ever happen.

He quit the hitting and began to bounce. "Y-yeah! I w-want to!"

 "Ok, but now let me clean that. Give me your arm," I requested after getting the first aid kit from the glove compartment.

"S-see? N-now it s-says 'Franki'. It s-sucks."

"Most of it will fade away soon, you'll probably be left with just an 'i'."

"S-sucks. S-sucks sucks sucks," he repeated.

I disinfected the wounds and applied a small bandage over the deepest cut. Luckily, it didn't look serious.

"Oh s-so great. N-now it s-says Frank!"

"Stop complaining, grumpy!" I laughed at his pouty face.

 "I ... I n-need to p-pee," he changed subject.

"Me too, let's go."

We got out of the car and walked to some sun-burnt, half-dead bushes at the side of the road. Frankie was about to unzip his dusty jeans, but doubted when he felt me hold him by his t-shirt.

 "You do your thing and don't mind me, I promise I won't look. I'll be just peeing too," I assured him, managing to work on my pants one-handed. I wouldn't risk him escaping again.

******

Having slept enough and consumed some energy struggling with me, Frankie behaved pretty well the following hours. He spoke to either the gnomes or the little people, marveled at the landscapes and animals on our way, or commented about things only he could see. I tried to get the ideas the best I could, asking strategic questions to get some more information about his hallucinations without telling him that I wasn't seeing them.

At noon I decided that it'd be better to eat in the car, so we bought some sandwiches at a stop. What Frankie didn't know was that I had kept the one Jane gave us, therefore his 'little friends' could have their own meal again. After that I threw it away when Frank wasn't looking, before it started to smell.

By late afternoon we had a big part of the way done. I was sure that we'd be able to make it home in less than a day and a half which was a good mark.

Frankie was fidgeting, curling his hair around his index finger and alternating between singing and whispering to himself. Boredom did nothing to help his situation, but I didn't know how to entertain him.

I watched him study the messy, brownish letters on his arm, his upset lips forming the word 'sucks'. Would I be able to take care of him and keep him safe?

"Frankie can't be alone." I repeated in my head. I was beginning to understand why. 


	6. Chapter 6

_You'll never make me leave,  
I wear this on my sleeve,  
give me a reason to believe._

"L-LOOK!" Frank exclaimed, pointing through the window to the side of the road.  


"What?" I'd been distracted thinking and was clueless about what he was looking at.  


"Th-there! A...a h-horse! It's a h-horse too, l-like the ones I s-saw before, right? On-only a brown one? Is...is it, G-gerard?" he questioned, excited like a five-year old.  


"Yep, a brown horse. You've seen them on TV, haven't you?"  


"Yeah! And...and al-also in b-books. W-we had a b-book with l-lots of pictures of an-animals. L-look a b-black one! And...and awwwwwww th-the spotted one is so p-pretty!" he continued. It was really nice to see him so happy and amused by such simple things. Nice and inspiring. It made me think of how we'd frequently take some things for granted only because we saw them everyday. I wished I could feel what Frankie was feeling, like everything was brand new and exciting. Maybe he could help me.

Even though I was driving I kept on turning to look at him. He seemed to zone out for a moment, then jerked and hit his head against the glass purposely. Not very hard, but enough to make me flinch.  


"Frankie don't..."  


"G-gerard?" he interrupted me. I nodded for him to go on.  


"Y-you're gonna b-buy me my pills? I kn-know you said you d-don't have m-money here but...m-maybe at h-home?" he asked worriedly and visibly uncomfortable, rubbing his hands all over his face and head. It was getting harder for him to cope with his entangled brain the longer he was without medication; it was a fact that he needed it. 

My main concern lied in the fact that I didn't know what was wrong with him and which pills he was on. I didn't want to force him to think, it evidently did him no good; but I had to try and see if he was acquainted with his problem.  


"Frankie...do you have any idea of what pills you need?"  


"Uh..." he played with his ear, thinking.  


"Don't you know the name?"  


"N-no I don't. Th-they're white and...and s-small. S-someone gave them to me al-always, I...I d-dunno the name. S-sorry," he said, feeling guilty for not being able to answer my question.  


"No, it's ok. It's understandable that you wouldn't know that," I smiled.  


"K-kay."  


"And...don't feel bad if you don't but...do you know what...mental illness you have? I mean, what the problem with your head is?" I shot my second question, trying to be as gentle as I could. 

Frank's face saddened. "N-no. I...I just kn-know I...I'm s-special and my head d-doesn't work too well. P-pills make it a l-little better. Y-yeah they do. All...all m-mixed up. Ev-everything. It...it h-hurts sometimes. H-here," he pointed to his temple.  


"What about the name of the place where you lived? Do you remember?"  


"N-no. No, I d-don't. No, n-nothing. S-stop, I DON'T KN-KNOW IT!" he screamed. I felt like an asshole, I shouldn't have insisted so much.  


"I'm sorry Frankie, calm down, I didn't mean to make you nervous," I apologized, but he wasn't listening. He'd started to chew on his thumb, swaying and raving.  


"N-no. Y-yeah maybe...d-don't you think? T-to that wall. N-no that one, th-the other one. S-see?" His eyes were fixed on the front, though he didn't seem to be looking at anything. After several minutes he broke out of the trance and glanced at me, distressed. "W-will you?"  


"Will I what, Frankie?"  


"B-buy my pills..." he said in a pleading, low voice.

Considering that the boy didn't seem capable of giving me any information, I was left with no other choice than to somehow try and find out by myself once we arrived home. Anyway, Frank would need to see a specialist or we couldn't get the pills; they won't sell you that kind of medication without a prescription. Even more important: to be able to take good care of Frankie and make sure that he would be as fine as he could be, I needed money. And to get money, I needed to find a job as soon as possible.  


There were a lot of things to have in mind, but I was willing to try. Not only for Frank. Also to prove myself that I could be responsible for once. Everybody was probably going to think I'd gone crazy. No one would understand why I cared so much for a troubled kid I had just met. I didn't mind, I would give Frank a good life.  


"Of course, Frankie. It's not going to be easy because I first need to find a job to earn money, but I promise you I'll buy your pills as soon as I can," I told him. 

He smiled content. "I c-could work t-too," he unexpectedly offered.  


"No, you can't work, at least not for now. I'll do it for both of us, ok?" I kept my eyes on the road ahead while speeding a little again, seizing the quiet moment. I also didn't want him to see my tears. No one had this effect on me before.  


"Oh...f-fine."  


"Frankie, what's your last name? I don't think you told me, did you?" I realised that he had yet to let me know that. It was important if I was going to be somewhat in charge of him. 

He didn't answer right away and was thoughtful, eyes closed and biting his lip. "I...I d-don't remember! H-how I f-forgot my last n-name? I s-sure have one! Wh-what's yours?" he inquired, a little frustrated.  


"Mine's Way."  


"Th-that's so funny! Way! L-like in... _no way_!" he laughed hysterically. I'd usually get annoyed when people made jokes about my last name. But this was Frankie, and he was laughing, it didn't matter at what. 

I ended up laughing myself. "Yeah...I guess it _is_ funny! So you don't remember yours?"  


"N-no...I'm t-trying but I d-don't. Th-they never called m-me by my last n-name. It...it w-was always Frankie. Or...F-frank when they w-were mad at me, an-and I know that's m-my name but I...I like F-frankie more." So that's why he didn't like to be called Frank, he related it to reprimands.  


"Frankie totally suits you," I nodded honestly. He, without a doubt, looked like a 'Frankie'. 

Instead of saying something, he rested both hands against the window and hit it.  


"What...?"  


"S-STOP THE CAR! STOP THE C-CAR NOW! P-PLEASE DO! STOPTHECARSTOPTHECARSTOPTHEC-CAR!" he screamed with desperation in a high-pitch voice.  


"Why?" I asked. 

He shook the car's door, trying to get it open. "S-STOP NOW, YOU'RE G-GONNA PASS IT BY!"  


"What am I gonna pass by?"  


"THE P-PUPPY! TH-THERE! L-LOOK!" he signaled. There was nothing in sight, yet I complied. In his mental state I would not be able to convince him otherwise.  


As soon as we got off the car he ran to a lonely lemon tree standing in the middle of the wide grass surface. It was almost full night so it was hard to see something once you moved away from the street lights. I rushed behind Frankie, fearing to lose him again.  


"Awwwwww s-sweet!" he crouched below the tree and picked up something from the ground. Something only _he_ could see. He walked back towards the lights and raised the 'puppy' he had found, admiring it.  


I paid attention to his hands, the way his fingers flexed, the slight pressure they exerted. It was exactly how one would hold a puppy, the exact distance between his hands for one to fit. I could perfectly imagine a puppy in that empty space. His hold was steady as if the little animal was really there. It was amazing. He could not only see it faultlessly but also feel it, that was obvious.  


"C-can I keep it p-please?" he cradled his imaginary four legged friend against his chest and tenderly kissed what I guessed was its head. The sweetest thing ever.  


"Of course you can. Let's go, this is not a good place to be."  


"T-thank you, Gee! Y-you're so so n-nice." He jumped, smiling with all his teeth. Had he called me _Gee_?  


Once we were back into the vehicle and on our way, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. I knew it was dangerous, but I just couldn't help it; he got me entranced. How could his mind recreate objects and beings in such a perfect way that he could perceive them by sight and tact? Maybe even smell, since I remembered him telling me how it smelled like roses at one point earlier, when it didn't.

He had the puppy on his lap and was running his small fingers through it, following the outline from head to tail. Always at the same height, always the same apparent size. I had an urge to know what color it was before his eyes. But how could I find out without confessing that I wasn't seeing the puppy? Then I had an idea.  


"I love black dogs," I randomly threw a color. I was incredibly lucky.  


"M-me too! Th-that's why I l-loved him so much wh-when I saw him f-from here! And is-isn't the white spot on his ch-chest funny?" he spoke happily, still patting his doggie.  


"Yes! It's like...star shaped," I ventured to say. 

He bent down, looking at the mental projection on his legs. "Uhm...I...I s-say it's a f-flower," he concluded.  


"You're right, actually. It's a white flower!"

The following hours were hell. I didn't know what to do to keep Frank quiet. He was 'playing with his dog', jumping on his seat, laughing, giggling, for moments crawling on the car's floor, for others climbing the backrests. Once in a while calling his puppy or singing children songs to him.

"Why don't you name the puppy instead of calling him 'Puppy'?" I asked him while he waved a piece of paper in front of 'it'  


"I l-like to call him P-puppy! And...and he w-wants to give you a k-kiss!" he brought his hands to my face. "Awwww!"  


"He's making all my face wet! Now Frankie, would you sit down and fasten your belt? It's not safe to be moving around so much in a car, kid. Please?" I tried again, having failed all my previous attempts.  


"K-kay." He obeyed this time; but before doing so he took his bag from the backseat and looked for something inside of it. After rummaging for a considerable amount of time, he came out with a red bandanna with white patterns on it. When he was zipping closed the backpack, I got a glimpse of something brown and plushy.  


"Is that a teddy bear you have there?"  


"Y-yeah..." He froze, flushed.  


"Did you sleep with it?"  


"N-no! W-well...yeah," he admitted, his nervous tic more frequent at the moment.  


"Why didn't you tell me? You could have slept with it last night and feel more comfortable..."  


"I...I th-thought you would l-laugh...some kids u-used to laugh."  


"I wouldn't have laughed. I'm not laughing now, am I?" I noted. 

Frank said 'no' with his head. "I h-have Puppy now, a-anyway," he grinned, seemingly squeezing his pet.  


"Ok! But if you change your mind and want to sleep with both of them, I just want you to know that I find it absolutely normal, I'll never make fun of you because of it. Yes?" I felt the need to assure him.  


"K-kay," he repeated his most used answer.  


Frankie took the bandanna and folded it in a triangle. Holding it in the air at his waist height, he joined the extremes and made a knot. The hole left in the middle was a puppy's neck size. Surely, the red cloth fell into Frank's knees as soon as he let it go.  


"Oh, P-puppy! Let's tr-try again," he sighed angrily and repeated the process patiently. When getting the same result, he just threw the bandanna to the floor, defeated. "Y-you'll keep g-getting rid of it with your p-paw? F-fine Puppy, you w-win, no scarf! I...I'll l-love you the s-same."  


"It seems your pet's a rebel!" I laughed.  


"Y-yeah he is! He...he'd l-looked so cool!"  


As we reached a more populated area I casted a look around us, still smiling with a mix of amusement and sadness. Glancing up at the starry sky I thought of how lucky we had been to find such a good climate along the way.  


"Oh! Do you like hot dogs, Frankie?" my tired eyes set on a small food cart. 

Surprise stopped his eyes' motion and they beamed, mirroring the rest of his face. "Of c-course I do! B-but we didn't h-have them too often. C-can we?" he said hyperly.  


"Yes we can, that's why I asked!"

After I talked Frank into leaving Puppy sleeping in the car, I parked and we headed for where the hot dog vendor was; an old, rusted, white structure which seemed to have endured too much rain and wind. As we got closer I could see that in spite of the precariousness, the counter was clean and shiny, same as everything behind it.  


"Mmm s-smells good!" Frankie declared, putting my thought into words. It did, and only then I realised how hungry I was.  


"You bet it smells good, kiddo! These are the best hot dogs in miles!" the friendly bald man behind the counter said.  


"Wow, r-really?" Frank giggled, trying to sit on one of the tall stools. His legs were too short, and he was in one of those moments when his body would slightly tremble and not respond too well.  


"You'll see!" the man answered.  


"Let me help you." I lifted Frank and placed him on the seat. Though thin and not very muscular, he was well fed; not as light as he'd seemed.  


"Th-thanks..." he whispered, suddenly becoming shyer for some reason. I fixed his hair so it wouldn't be on his face and found out that he was blushing. He gave me a half smile and looked to the opposite side. I didn't know why he was acting like that, but it was adorable.

We stayed there for over half an hour, thankfully with no trouble. Frankie behaved fairly 'normal'. He'd appeared to momentarily forget about the little people, although he did talk to the man about the pretty ladybugs walking around the counter. The vendor caught it right away and followed the conversation. He also gave the kid an extra free hot dog, seeing how hungry he was. As we left, Frankie waved to the man who returned the gesture. My newly found little friend was proving to be likable to most people.

"Gee...I'm s-sleepy. C-can I go to the b-back?" Frank used that nickname again, the weird feeling in my stomach returning.  


"Yep, go ahead. The problem is that I can't go there with you right now. We can't stay here, so I need to keep on driving, you know?"

"It...it's o-okay, P-puppy will t-take care of me un-until you can c-come." His face -which had been at first sad- changed when he looked at his 'dog' and climbed to the backseat with it.  


I first considered joining him whenever I saw a place where I could park for the night, but finally decided against it. I was afraid of oversleeping and getting us delayed again. I took several deep breaths to expel weariness and accelerated.  


******  


Many hours passed by. The sun had long ago risen and its rays were blinding me, magnified by the thick glass. Traffic had gotten heavier. Squinting, I grabbed my sunglasses and put them on, automatically relieved. However, relief brought back my tiredness. My eyes kept on closing unwittingly and I started to nod. I was finding it harder and harder to stay awake. Street noises were heard farther and farther. My eyelids were heavy as lead.  


"I should have slept," was my last conscious thought. 


	7. Chapter 7

_Don't get too close,  
don't move your eyes like that,  
because they're deep enough to drown me._

"H-HELLO!!" I was awaken by a scream in my ear. In a matter of milliseconds I wrenched open my eyes and looked out the front. Barely remembering that I was driving, I was welcomed by bad news: we were about to collide with a huge bus in front of us. My hands gripped the wheel, my reflexes reacted and I gave it a quick turn, missing the bus by a few inches.

Still terrified and gasping for air, I slowed down and felt tears run down my cheeks. Then I heard a yawn behind me. I checked in the mirror and it showed me Frankie's big shifty eyes staring back at me.

"Good morning, Frankie," I told him, trying to conceal my nervousness.

"M-morning! Y-you okay, G-gerard? Y-you're crying? Wh-what's wrong?" Frank asked the questions rapidly, one after another. He didn't realise that we had been in danger.

"Uh no, I'm not crying, I'm just tired and the sun's bothering me," I lied. He kept staring, making me feel weird. Even when I couldn't see him I _felt_ his eyes on me.

"I...I l-like you, G-gee," he said.

I swallowed quickly and almost choked on my saliva. He sounded...

"L-like you a lot..." he added. There was no doubt, Frank somehow sounded... _sexy_. I wasn't sure if he was intending to, but that's how it sounded to me.

I was trying to figure out my mixed up feelings when he did something more: he leaned over and kissed the side of my mouth. After that he climbed back into the front seat and fastened his belt, smiling at me.

Something told me this kid was going to drive _me_ crazy, I was in no way immune to his charms. But even if he was, in fact, 'seducing me', I couldn't be certain that he _meant_ it. Even if he meant it, I didn't know if he was 18 for real. And yet being 18 he was a mental patient; wouldn't that be illegal? Just in case I'd have to play the fool.

"W-we need to feed P-puppy," Frank stated, hugging his invisible pet.

"Oh...I already did it while you were sleeping, don't worry," I answered. That would be one less problem.

"R-really? Oh, k-kay, then! B-bad Puppy...why you d-didn't tell m-me?"

"Oh my god! Coffee!" I screamed when I noticed the small building to my right. I needed something to help me stay awake if I didn't want to defy fate again.

Frank looked at me surprised, tilting his head. "C-can I have some c-coffee too?"

"Uh..." That wasn't a good idea. "No, you can't drink coffee, you're too young."

"Wh-what? I'm not th-that young, I'm 18!" he frowned. "L-let's see...h-how old are you, m-mister 'grown-up'?" he left me mute. It was the first time I'd heard him make sense for such a long time.

"I'm 23," I responded.

Frank seemed to be counting with his fingers. "F-four years is n-not that m-much! S-so why I can't h-have coffee?"

"It's _five_ years," I corrected him.

"Wh-whatever! T-tell me?"

"Coffee's not good for your head. For...special people's head. Do you understand?" I tried to explain.

"Uhm...y-yeah, I th-think. K-kay then 'c-cause...'cause I d-don't want my head to g-get worse. Wh-what 'bout a C-coke?"

I considered a non-caffeine option better. "I think a Sprite would be better, deal?" 

"D-deal! N-no you sh-shut up!"

"Me? Why?"

"N-no not you, _h-him._ "

"Who?" I questioned. His sane moment was over.

"Th-the...he...wh-who is...my th-things! L-live me...ALONE!" he tugged at his hair.

"Ok, ok! But we need to go for our drinks now."

"Y-yeah...ok," he nodded, rather absently.

I opened the door and half-dragged Frankie behind me towards the shop. He was sluggish and silent, observing everything around him with much interest.

Back into the vehicle the silence continued while we drank, or better said the silence _between us;_ Frank was having apparently funny conversations with the gnomes and sharing his Sprite with them and Puppy.

Feeling more alert I resumed the driving. I could sense Frank's stare focused on me once again, burning holes on the side of my face. I didn't dare say anything or turn my head.

"G-gee...you l-like me?" he asked softly. I felt a lump form in my throat.

"Of course I like you, Frankie. I wouldn't be taking you home with me if I didn't! I think you're a very nice, sweet boy," I gave my honest answer. I was starting to fear that I might like him in more than one way, but he didn't need to know that. I shouldn't even be thinking about that myself, it was wrong.

"Oh...th-that's...okay..." he sounded disappointed.

"Did I say something bad?"

"N-nope."

After that he acted down for a while, leaning against the window, though he eventually returned to his hyperactive self.

Nearing mid-day, I searched my pockets and counted the money I had left. "Yeah...I think it's enough since we'll be home by night. Hey Frankie, what about eating at a better looking place this time? McDonald's?" I consulted him happily.

"M-mac what?" he got pensive. "Uh...oh y-yeah! I kn-know! S-seen those p-places in movies but n-never been th-there. N-nope."

"Well, it'll be your first time today!"

I parked at the first McDonald's I saw, a fairly big one on a corner. It was cheering to enter a place that was clean and pleasant to the eyes as well as to your nose. The windows surrounding it filtered enough day light to not need much artificial illumination and the furniture was diverse depending on the sector you'd look at. It went from the typical built-in benches and tables to simple aluminum chairs to simile-leather coaches with coffee tables.

"Wow...n-nice!" Frank squealed and ran to one of the bright red formica seats, letting himself fall and sliding on his ass all the way to the wall. "H-here!"

"Ok, but..." I took his hand and brought him to the edge of the seat, laughing. "... first we have to get our food, I'm not letting you sit here alone."

"Y-yeah...true. F-frankie can't be al-alone. B-but what if s-someone sits here?" he doubted.

"There aren't many people so I don't think anyone will, and if that happened there are other seats exactly like this one."

"Y-yeah, guess. P-puppy will be f-fine in the c-car?"

"Yes he will, we've already left him there yesterday and he behaved pretty well."

Nothing out of the ordinary occurred during our lunch there. Frankie loved his meal and just kept on talking about random things, mostly out of his 'own little world'. Once we were done he got up and ran to the other side of the spacious room, stopping where a big playpen full of colored plastic balls was placed. He glued himself to the glass and then turned to me.

"C-can I go p-play there?" his eyes shined.

"No, Frankie...that's for little kids, they won't allow you."

"B-but...please!"

"It's not me who decides, kid, you know I'd let you."

"I...I w-wanna play th-there! Th-they bringed one of th-those once and...and I w-was gonna get in and th-they told me I couldn't 'c-cause I would hurt the o-other kids. N-NOT TRUE! As-ask them p-please, Gee?" he pleaded.

"Is there any problem?" someone spoke behind us.

"Not really but...could my brother go play in the playpen?" I dared to ask.

The boy, whose name was Daniel, studied Frank from head to toes and then shook his head. "No, sorry. He's too old."

"I...I'M N-NOT TOO OLD!"

"There's no need to scream. The rules say up to 10 years, and he's obviously not 10," he talked to me, choosing to ignore Frank's rage.

"Can't you do an exception? I know he's far from ten but he is...well, _special_. When he wants something it's hard to convince him against it."

"I'll repeat what I said before: I'm really sorry sir, but I can't do that," he replied; and I didn't know if I wanted to punch him more for being a stubborn bitch, or for calling me 'sir'. Fuck! He wasn't that much younger!

"Y-YOU ARE F-FUCKING MEAN!" Frank shouted, kicking the floor.

"What's all this, Daniel?" the manager inquired while he approached us. The boy explained it all while I held Frankie, trying to calm him.

"There's no need to be so strict when there's almost no people. Besides, he's small. Go ahead, kid!" the man in charge concluded.

Frankie gasped and didn't lose time answering; he rushed straight to the playpen, diving in and getting lost among the colors.

"Thank you very very much, you made my brother happy," I shook the older guy's hand.

"You're welcome. I don't want to be disrespectful but... he's mentally ill, isn't he?"

"Yeah, I just took him out of the institution where he was, he's going to live with me now. I think it'll be better for him." I didn't know why I was telling him so much, even if it wasn't the whole truth. I prayed for the man not to ask what Frankie had, though.

"That's good, it sure will. I guess it's always better for them to be with their family," he assented.

For the following minutes I sat on the floor watching Frank swim in the plastic balls; jumping, throwing them in the air, or disappearing just to emerge seconds later waving at me, beaming. Was this the same boy that had been playing sexy earlier?

After one of his dives, he came out with both hands in from of him, as if he was holding something. "L-look!" he ran to me.

"What is it?"

"Wh-what you th-think it is, t-tard? A b-baby dinosaur! C-can we ad-adopt it?" he made it sound like the most normal thing in the world. Two imaginary pets? That was too much.

"A what? Oh no no no! A dog is fine, but a dinosaur? It's gonna be _huge_ and my house is small, we can't keep it Frankie, sorry."

"B-but we can't l-leave it!" he cried.

"It belongs here, they'll take care of it. Right, mister manager?" I asked the man as he walked past us. He laughed at the name I gave him and waited for me to explain. "Frankie found a baby dinosaur in the playpen, and I was telling him that you can take care of it here."

"Oh, yes, give it to me. He'll be fine with us."

"K-kay..." the kid handed him the 'creature' after kissing it goodbye. "B-be a good b-boy!"

"He looks like one, I don't think it'll give me any trouble," the manager smiled kindly.

We thanked him and left, ready for our last hours on the road.

******

"Frankie, I was just thinking...I have some comics in my bag, wanna read them so you're not so bored?" I watched him braid his hair while humming.

"P-puppy, stop! I...I'm t-tired of playing!" he suddenly pushed the air with his hands. Only then he drew his attention to me. "Uh...n-no."

"You don't like comics? I have some other magazines there."

"N-no I do like th-them. I u-used to read a lot, an-anything, when I w-was younger." He looked down.

"When you were younger? And why don't you do it anymore?"

"W-well...then the l-letters became t-too small, and b-blurry and...and s-sometimes they m-move."

"Oh..." I should have imagined that after seeing how difficult it was for him to focus on small things. Although maybe his sight problems were worse than I'd thought. The poor boy had it all against him.

"I have one with really big letters, wanna try?"

"N-no...even big l-letters are m-moving letters sometimes."

"It's ok, don't worry, I'm sure there's a solution for that."

"K-kay," Frank replied indifferently. He either didn't care or he had no idea what I was talking about.

And there it was again, out of nowhere. That face. That stare, so close to me. He'd even managed to keep his eyes still. His mouth was hanging slightly open, I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

"Wh-who lives with you?" he muttered, keeping that same perturbing distance.

"No one..."

"Wh-why?"

"Well...I had found a job and it was too far from my mom's house so I moved alone."

"S-so you do h-have a job," he said confused.

"No, I lost it."

Frankie laughed. "H-how do you l-lose a job? It...it's n-not a th-thing..."

"Being stupid..." I replied with absolute honesty. Frank didn't seem to get it, yet he didn't questioned me.

He got closer to my ear and whispered in that unthinkable seductive voice, "Y-you won't be al-alone anymore." Then he sat back quietly and soon appeared to be falling asleep. He eventually did as the hours went by.

*****

"N-NO! OH MY G-GOD! OH M-MY GOD! H-HELP ME! P-PLEASE H-HELP ME!" he woke up screaming, making me jump two feet off my seat.

"What is it, Frankie?"

"OH M-MY G-GOD S-SPIDERS...TH-THEY'RE ALL O-OVER ME! TH-THEY'RE GONNA K-KILL ME!! H-HUGE!" He got himself free of the seatbelt and stood on the seat shaking his legs and arms desperately, crying. His face was white as paper. To argue with him would make things worse, so I decided to stop the car. Opening his door, I carried him to the sidewalk.

"Listen to me, Frankie. I'm gonna get rid of the spiders, ok?"

"OH M-MY GOD, OH MY G-GOD. P-PLEASE I...I C-CAN'T BREATHE...I...I'M S-SO SCARED. C-CAN'T TAKE IT," he shouted, staring at his body terrified.

"Shh, you're fine. See? I'm getting rid of them," I hushed him while sweeping away the arachnids that his mind had created with my hands. Next I began to stomp on the ground. "And I'll kill them. Better?"

"S-sure that th-they're all gone? I...I c-can't stand t-them. N-no I can't. N-no spiders. N-no p-please..." he repeated gravely and sat down, his legs too shaky to support him. I lifted him from the floor and took him back to his seat.

"Are you ok, Frankie? You're still too pale."

"I...I d-don't know. Th-the spiders! They..." and before he could finish the sentence he fainted.

I quickly checked that he was fine, fearing that he could have a heart attack. He was breathing normally and his heart, though surely accelerated, kept a steady rhythm. I accommodated my hoodie in between the glass and his head and let him sleep.

I took a look at my watch. We could be home in 3 hours but I was too tired, I didn't trust myself on the wheel for that long. I meditated for a few minutes. There was only one thing that could be done. Gathering courage I took out my cellphone -which had been off during all my trip. My fingers trembled as I pressed the number on the memory.

"GERARD? FUCKING SON OF A BITCH, WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN FOR ALMOST A WHOLE DAMN WEEK?" came the angry, screaming voice from the other side of the line.

"I...I'm sorry, Mikey. I needed to disconnect myself from everything, I went to see dad," I babbled, expecting more of my younger brother's wrath.

"Yeah, right...you just do what the fuck you please and have us all dead worried about you! We kept calling your house and nothing. After three days I was about to break into to see if you weren't dead in there! Luckily, I found Ray and I saw it in his face that he knew something; he finally had to tell me."

"Sorry Mikey, really...if I had told you..."

"You didn't tell me because you _knew_ what mom and I would have thought, that's it! Look, Ray didn't give me details but I can guess what you went to do there. You could have answered your cellphone at least! " he continued, furious as I had never heard him before.

"Mikey, can we leave this for later? Right now I'm driving and I still have three hours ahead. Look...I'm too tired to drive so much and...I'm not alone," I cut him off.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I told him about Frankie as briefly as possible. There was silence on his side, until he exploded.

"WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, GERARD? ARE YOU THAT FUCKED UP?" he went from screaming to a calmer tone. "What crossed your mind when you decided to let a lost crazy kid into your car? He can be a psycho killer for all you know! Or you could get into big trouble!!"

"He's not a psycho killer, you'll see when you meet him. And about trouble...I'm prepared to take the risk, I want to help him. Are you gonna be home?"

"Mom has to work but I'm here studying with Alicia, why?" Yeah sure, studying.

"We'll be there in about an hour," I dropped the bomb.

"WHAT? ARE YOU GONNA COME WITH..."

"See you, Mikes!" I ended the communication before he could protest further.


	8. Chapter 8

_My heart has been strapped in a straight jacket love.  
The therapy boys say it fits like glove.  
I'm grossing the line in my brain,  
the line between pleasure and pain.  
It takes all I've got to survive,  
this madness will eat me alive._

"I-IERO!" Frank shouted, awaking with a jolt.  


"What?"  


"Is...is _Iero_ ," he repeated.  


"Iero? What does it mean?"  


"I...I d-don't know wh-what it means, d-dumb! Th-that's my l-last name. I r-remembered."  


"Oh! That's awesome, Frankie! Can you spell it out for me?" I difficultly grabbed a pen and a notebook from under my seat, making sure to keep my other hand on the wheel.  


"Y-yeah," he nodded.

"Ok, tell me."  


"i-e-r-o," he said confidently, and I wrote it down without even looking at the paper.  


"You sure?"  


"Y-yep. H-heard it while I was s-sleeping. B-but...it's true. G-grace was s-speaking on the phone and I h-heard her. Th-then I woke up and r-remembered that was my n-name. Y-yes," he explained. His speech was a little messy. I couldn't completely figure out whether he meant it was a dream or something that had really happened. Or both. I didn't want to tire him with more questions.  


"Veeery good! Then we should introduce each other again: pleased to meet you, Frankie Iero!"  


"P-pleased to m-meet you, Gerard W-way!" he giggled.

We arrived at my family's house only fifteen minutes later than expected. I hadn't been around for the last two months, yet nothing seemed too different save for the sides of the gray stone path which were packed with new flowers. They were all either yellow or orange -the typical summer colors- and even under the pale moon light they appeared to glow. The rosebushes were in bloom and the grass was a vibrant green. Okay, maybe the garden _did_ look completely different after all, but it was due to the usual beauty summer would always bring.

Frankie freed himself from my grasp with a tug, attracted by a bush of velvety red roses. He ran towards the delicate flowers, smelled them, and raised his hand to take one.  


"Frankie, don't touch them! They have tho-"  


"OUCH! It s-stinged me!" he complained, my warning going to waste.

"Roses do that! Come here, let me see your finger," I guided him to the porch light. He shuddered when I grabbed his hand to examine his thumb. Part of the thorn had clung to his skin but only superficially, so I removed it with ease. "You're ok, don't worry. Just remember to not touch those plants again."  


"K-kay."

Standing in front of the big, dark green wooden door I hesitated, causing Frank to eye me expectantly. It'd suddenly come to mind that the bell didn't work the last time I was there. Knowing my brother, I didn't think it could have been fixed. I knocked and waited.  


"Coming!" a female voice answered. Seconds later the door was opened and we were welcomed by Alicia, Mikey's girlfriend. Her shiny black hair -tied up in a ponytail- was a mess, loose locks sticking out everywhere. She also seemed slightly out of breath.  


"Hi, Alicia! Studying too hard?" I greeted her with a crooked smile.  


"We're dedicated students, you know that. Summer courses are killing us," she grinned. "Gerard, haven't seen you in weeks! And this must be Frank..."

"Frankie," I quickly corrected.  


"Oh sorry, Frankie...how are you, honey? I'm Alicia, Mikey's girlfriend."  


"H-hello! I...I'm G-gerard's...uh...f-friend!" he took a step forward and offered her his hand. Instead of shaking it, Alicia brought him closer and kissed his cheek. I recognized her famous 'aww face'.  


"Awww, he's a cutie!" she exclaimed, confirming my thoughts. Girls like her were suckers for boys like Frankie.  


"Al, calm down, he's not a dog."  


"Oh, b-but I have a d-doggie!" Frank commented.  


"You do? Sweet!"  


"Yep! H-he's called P-puppy."  


"Can we come in now, Alicia? I'm drained," I interrupted their socialization.  


"Of course Gerard, it's your house after all!"

We entered the house, the one that had been my home for more than 20 years. No change had been made on the inside since my last visit. Like always, everything was in order; my mother was pretty much obsessive about that, or maybe I was too careless. The beige curtains were impeccable and neatly ironed. The brown carpet was clean and kinda puffy, giving that walking-on-air feeling. The shelves, as well as the pottery on them, gleamed.

"Oh, the prodigal son has decided to finally show his face!" was the first line coming out of my brother's mouth. He was sitting on our old maroon couch; his long, thin legs stretched over the coffee table.  


"Mikey please..."  


"PLEASE? FUCK YOU, GERARD! YOU CAN'T FUCKING DISAPPEAR JUST LIKE THAT!"  


"Mikey please, don't scream. Not in front of Frankie, I beg you," I told him. Frank hugged my waist trembling, seeking protection.  


"Look...brother, you know I'm usually patient. I'm not one to snap at any stupidity, but you've crossed the line lately. Sometimes I feel like _I_ am the big brother here. You don't tell me about your life anymore, I had to find out that you lost your job through Bob! And now you ask me to hold myself back from speaking my mind just because of what the stranger you found might think?" Mikey spat rightfully. I hadn't been fair to him.  


"No, Mikey, it's not what Frankie will think. Didn't you hear what I told you over the phone earlier? He needs tranquility, not screams and fights. You are right, I fucked up big time. I'm sorry, I really am. I made this trip because I've decided to change my life. And yes, as you guessed I _did_ ask dad for money, but I'll pay him back some day. Now please, can we have a nice night and leave these arguments for another moment?"  


Mikey listened to me and his face softened. He fixed his white rimmed glasses on his nose and got up, slowly walking towards me. As if understanding it all, Frank let go of me and sat on one of the small black sofas.  


"Sorry Gee, I'm glad you're okay and back home." Mikey looked me in the eyes and finally enclosed me in a strong hug, which I reciprocated. I kissed his head as he placed it on my shoulder. He had always been taller than me.  


"It's ok, I understand your frustration," I said.

Mikey parted just enough to glance at me. "Gee, you look like shit. Sure it's only lack of sleep and tiredness?" he questioned worried. I knew what he was implying.  


"Yes, Mikes, I didn't slept for two nights, just that. I haven't had a single drink this week, I swear. Chill, I'm not that lost!"  


"Well, the last events before you left said the contrary, you know?" he insisted. Sighing, I sat down next to Frankie.  


"I know, but that's in the past, I think I stopped things on time. I have little Frankie here who needs me." I caressed the boy's hair. He was twitching, visibly nervous and confused.

"Is he ok?" Mikey queried while Alicia knelt down in front of Frank.  


"Yes...well, not really. For moments I think he's suffering. He needs his meds, and I don't know how much time it'll be until I have the money to get them," I explained.  


"Damn, I wish we could help, but you know Mikey and I are as broke as you. That kind of medication is very expensive." Alicia rubbed Frank's arm as I held him.  


"I...I...s-so messed up. D-don't feel g-good. N-not at all. W-wanna fix it...w-wanna break it. Th-this, here. N-no. F-fuck..." Frank trailed off, grabbing my arm with such force that it hurt like hell.  


"What is he..." Mikey stopped to look at Frankie, who had gotten up holding his head and walked to the wall to his right. Falling on his knees, he began to hit his head against it.  


"B-break, break, B-BREAK!"  


"Gerard, do something!" Alicia was the first one to react and I run to Frankie, followed by me. We picked him up and separated him from the wall but he kicked us, trying to escape. "Mikey, please help me!"

"N-NO, LEMME GO! G-GOTTA BREAK IT! H-HATE IT! C-CAN'T STAND IT. F-FUCK YOU!" Frank screamed. Together we managed to take him to the couch where I did my best to restrain him.  


"Frankie...shh, you'll be fine. Look, you can hit your head here if it helps," the girl of the group whispered to him, making him face the couch's padded backrest.  


"N-no please stop, sh-shut up. N-no you d-don't. D-don't like when y-you're there. L-leave," he mumbled while his head collapsed against the harmless surface once and again.  


"Who is he talking to?" Mikey asked.  


"I'm not sure...maybe he hears voices too?" I hypothesized, certain that Frankie couldn't hear me. "I know he sees things and beings that are not real..."  


"That's possible," Alicia said. "What problem does he exactly have?"  


"I don't know, he couldn't tell me."

Frank quit what he'd been doing for at least five minutes and looked at me, red faced and panting. He was still shaking.  


"Come here and rest for a while." I opened my arms for him to cuddle, closing them around his small curled up form. While brushing his hair out of his face I felt a protuberance on his forehead. "Ouch, he has a bump from banging his head on the wall."  


"I'll go for some ice." Alicia got up and returned in a minute with some ice cubes wrapped in a napkin. I carefully placed it over Frank's swollen area. He hissed at first, but was quickly comforted by the cold and zoned out.

"Haven't you checked his bag?" Mikey questioned.  


"What?"  


"If you tried checking in his backpack. Maybe there's something in there that could help you know more about himm," he developed his idea. How hadn't I thought of that?  


"Uh...no? As far as I know he only has clothes and his teddy bear."  


"Shh," Frankie hushed me with his index finger over his lips.  


"They won't laugh either, I promise," I whispered in his ear.  


"For fuck's sake, Gee! Do I always have to think for you?"  


"Well, you're the one with the intellectual look after all, little bro!" I laughed. "Frankie?"  


"Uh?"  


"Do you give us permission to look into your bag? We won't keep anything." I did what I thought was right. In spite of his mental issues, the kid still had rights over his belongings.  


"Y-yeah. On-only clothes th-there. N-nothing else. FUCK! Argg...t-tell him to sh-shut up now!" It looked as if he was having a fight inside his head.  


"Thanks. Now just close your eyes and don't listen to...him."  


"I...I'll t-try."

My brother placed Frank's discolored black bag on his lap and looked inside, laying everything over the table. Two pairs of jeans, gray sweatpants, no more than five t-shirts, underwear and a single fuchsia hoodie.  


"Oh, nice color!" Mikey giggled, gaining a punch from his girl.  


"Don't be like that, asshole. He was surely given clothes that didn't fit older kids anymore in that place. That was probably from a girl."  


"I know, sorry. Well, nothing important here. Although there's this smaller pocket...let's see."  


"So?" I stretched to get a glance from where I was positioned.  


"Bingo!" Mikey showed us what appeared to be an ID.  


"Yay! Come near so I can see."

He sat next to me and opened the document. The first thing I saw was the picture of a slightly younger Frank smiling widely. His hair was a lot shorter, but his big eyes were as crossed as I had seen them during the scarce seconds when they were quiet.  


"What the fuck?" Mikey and I uttered at the same time. That page had been mostly ripped off. Other than the picture, you could read 'Frank Anthony -hole-, born on October the 31st, 1988'; and then nothing else. No address, no ID number, no nothing. There was a big hole were all that information should be.  


"Why...?" I was highly confused, this kid was becoming a bigger mystery. So, the only new data we'd obtained so far was that his middle name was Anthony -luckily he'd told me his last name- and that he had been born on Halloween -a funny contradiction for a boy with such an angelic face. "Check the other pages."  


"There's only one more. The rest of them are just completely missing...oh! Here's something." Mikey was looking at the section of the ID where any extra information that could be relevant was added. I couldn't quite read the handwritten part, but didn't want to move and disturb Frank who seemed to be falling asleep.  


"What does it say?"  


"Psychiatric patient, main pathology being severe schizophrenia. Under strict medication. Not specifically violent, although he can be a peril to himself. Needs constant watching," Mikey read and then added. "I'm sure it said more, but the other half of the page has also been removed."  


I was speechless. I finally knew about Frank's illness which, as scary as it sounded, at least left me with a solid idea. On the other hand, things were getting weirder and weirder.

"It says 'main pathology'. Does it mean he has other problems besides schizophrenia?" I asked no one in particular.  


"Uh...I'd say it does. Maybe something else not so concrete that doesn't even have a name?" Alicia tried to guess. Both Mikey and I shrugged.  


"Oh man, Gee, what have you gotten yourself into?" my brother rubbed his face and began to put Frank's things back into place. 

Frankie stirred on my lap. "Wh-what happened?" he inquired, unaware of our discoveries.  


"Nothing, don't worry. Oh...one question. Did you rip the pages of your ID?" I showed it to him. I didn't know why I was doing it, those pages had been too strategically ripped. He couldn't have done that, what for?  


"N-no...what's th-that? N-never saw it." Frankie took it from my hand, opened it and brought it close to his nose; then as far as his arm permitted and in the middle. He finally gave it back to me, blowing. "F-fuck it! D-damn small l-letters. Is th-there a pic?"  


"Yes, it's you a little younger."  


"Oh! T-too bad it d-doesn't want me to s-see it," he pouted.  


"Uh, Gerard. On top of all I think the kid needs glasses," Alicia remarked.  


"I know, I know. Maybe I should try playing lottery?"  


"Not a bad idea!" Mikey chuckled. "But just in case...find a job."  


"I will, Michael! The day after tomorrow as much."  


"And what will you do with Frankie while you work?" Alicia mentioned. That was a problem I hadn't thought of yet.  


"I don't know, but I'll find a solution. I need a good sleep before I'm able to think straight."  


******

"Gerard...is he _really_ 18?" Mikey broke several minutes of silence.  


"It took you all this time to make the calculation?"  


"Oh, fuck off! I just...remembered that detail now, idiot."  


"Well, I couldn't believe it either when he told me, but it seems he _is_ 18 after all."  


"Oh wow, I'd have said he's 15, 16 as much," Alicia opined.  


"Yeah I thought the same, but it's a good thing that he's not a minor."  


"That for sure, Gee. You're screwed enough," my brother agreed.  


During all that last part of our conversation, Frank had been just watching us with a lost expression, as if we were speaking in a different language. He didn't say a word. After a while he got off my lap and walked around the room aimlessly. I followed close just in case. Then he got on his knees and began to crawl.  


"C-cat...lion! C-cow! Horse...h-horse...giraffe! R-rhino...hip-hippo..." he named, signaling the floor and smiling.  


"Is he seeing like...mini-animals on the floor or something like that?" Mikey whispered. He was perplexed.  


"I think so...he'd never done that so far," I frowned. 

Frank continued to 'explore'. "Oh ...el-elephant! T-tiger! S-so pretty and t-tiny! And h-here...oops! Th-they're gone. Gu-guess you got un-under the carpet, d-didn't you? Oh, PUPPY!" he clapped his hands all of a sudden and acknowledged me at last. "G-gerard?  


"Yeah?"  


"H-how he got in-inside?" he took his dog and came back to the couch with us.  


"I don't know, he must have left the car with us and we didn't see him...and now got through a window," I made up.  


"Y-yeah, g-guess so."  


"Mikey, Alicia, this is Puppy, Frankie's doggie," I introduced the non-existent pet. 

Alicia smiled kindly and pretended to be stroking the little animal Frank was holding. "Awww, I love it!"   


Mikey wasn't amused. "Oh, please! He should know there's nothing there," he growled.  


"Wh-what he m-means?" Frankie looked at my brother.  


"Nothing, sweety, he's just thinking aloud about some problems. College problems," Alicia saved the moment, throwing his boyfriend a killer look. Mikey left for the kitchen mumbling that he'd make dinner.  


"A-ahh."  


"What color is your dog?" she interrogated Frank, making me gasp. 

He opened his mouth and eyed her, somewhat annoyed. "Y-you...you're b-blind? D-don't you see wh-what color he is? F-FUCK!"  


"Don't get that angry, boy! Alicia forgot her glasses and she sometimes can't tell the colors without them. Weird, uh?" I glared at Alicia who muttered a 'sorry'.  


"Y-yes it is! Uh...w-well...Puppy's b-black with a wh-white spot on his ch-chest with the sh-shape of a flower."  


"That's adorable! And Gee, it looks like your little friend has character..."  


"Haha, yeah, I think he can't help it for moments. He's usually very sweet, though." I ruffled Frank's hair. 

He kissed my cheek, leaned his head on my shoulder and stared at me closely. To my right I could see Alicia rip a piece of paper from her notebook. She wrote something on it, holding it up for me to read it.  


"That boy is SO in love."


	9. Chapter 9

_All I can say is that my life is pretty plain,  
you don't like my point of view,  
think I'm insane.  
It's not sane...  
It's not sane..._

"You think so?" I didn't mean to ask Alicia that question aloud, the words just escaped me.  


"Definitely," she wrote on the other side of the paper.  


"Th-think what?" Frank murmured, twisting my hair between his fingers.  


"Nothing important, kid, don't mind me."  


"Ah," he shrugged and hugged me tightly as I heard Alicia giggle, probably adding Frank's actions to her mental list of evidences. 

I gestured a 'we'll talk about it later' to her, to which she nodded with a smile. This girl could be a little annoying sometimes, but she was a nice person and really good at giving advice.

"Gee," she pointed at Frank's bandage. "I was going to ask earlier but then forgot...what happened to his wrist?"  


"I...I was d-doing a t-tattoo, see?" he showed her his arm. "B-but Gerard d-didn't let me finish and...and he c-covered the 'i'! N-now it s-says 'Frank' I...I d-don't like it, s-sucks. I l-like Frankie."  


"Oh, how...?"  


"With _a pair of scissors_ I had forgotten in my car. He went deeper for the 'i', that's why it's bandaged," I explained, both of us sharing a concerned look.  


"Geez! Frankie that's not how you get tattoos, boy!"  


"K-kay," he babbled and returned to his previous position.  


Mikey came from the kitchen wearing our mom's pink and white striped apron, some flour on it same as on his face and glasses. 

His index finger pointed to me and Frankie in an accusatory manner. "I'm preparing some spaghetti for dinner but it'll be a while before it's done. I don't wanna be rude and imply that you two stink or something but...don't you think you need a shower?"  


"How subtle of you, bro! And you've been cooking, for real? So fast?" I questioned surprised. He did know how to cook, but didn't do it very often.  


"Well...mom left it half done, I finished the sauce and got it all ready. Anyway, tell me whether you're gonna take a bath now so I know how much time I have."  


"Frankie's shaking, he's still too nervous. I'm afraid he might fall down or get hurt in the bathtub, I'd better have him wait 'till later. If Alicia can watch him for a while I'll go for a shower myself, though," I informed him. 

Frankie was transfixed on an undefined point in the room, eyes waltzing madly. I perceived that he was saying something only because his head was still on my shoulder, although I couldn't understand the words. Alicia observed him with certain sadness.  


"Of course I'll watch him, just...what do I do with him?"  


"Uh..." I carefully stood up holding Frank's head with a hand and then left him leaning against the couch. He didn't notice the change. "...right now nothing, it seems he's lost in his own world. If he gets out of this state, turn the TV on or talk to him, just make sure he doesn't do anything dangerous."  


"Understood."  


"Thanks."  


On my way to the bathroom, I entered the small kitchen where my brother was back to his chef activities. He was stirring the sauce in a casserole with a wooden spoon.  


"Mmm, I must say it smells good," I complimented him. 

He didn't answer, as if he had chosen to ignore me. Seconds laden with tensity elapsed until he sighed, left the spoon on the marbled surface beside the stove and faced me, arms crossed over his chest and that serious look on his face; the one that made me feel like the little brother no matter that he was four years younger.  


"Gerard, are you _really_ sure?" he finally spoke in a firm tone.  


"Sure about what? Your sauce? Of course, I..."  


"Don't fuck with me!" he cut me off. "You know what I'm talking about, that boy you brought."  


"What about him?" I wasn't feeling up for an argument.  


"You're getting yourself into a big one, brother. You've never even taken care of a _pet_ by yourself. How are you going to do with a crazy teen?"  


"Don't call him that!" I tried not to raise my voice.  


"Ok, sorry. But Gee..."  


"Look, Mikey, I know I haven't taken real responsibilities in my life so far. As I told you, I wanna change, and that's part of what I'm going to alter. I think life, destiny or whatever you call it put Frank in my way for some reason. I don't care if it sounds silly or maybe cliché, it's what I feel," I explained myself. 

He shook his head and ran his hands through his light brown hair. "I don't say this to be mean, I'm not such an asshole. But the boy stutters, sees less than me, is schizophrenic and who knows what else. He's 18, looks like 15 and acts like 10. Isn't he _too much_ for your first 'real responsibility'?"  


"He doesn't _always_ act like 10. He lived all his life in a mental institution with kids that were as troubled as him or more. You can't expect him to act like a normal 18 year-old, don't you think?" I pointed out.  


"Yeah, I guess you're right."  


"Of course I am. And if you wanna add something to your list of 'defects', he's also cross-eyed. Happy?" I added tauntingly.  


"Really? I thought it was just in that old pic..."

"Nope. When he manages to keep his eyes still, they're crossed. And you say he's 'too much for my first real responsibility'? I rather think that everything Frank has to deal with is too much for just one kid. I believe I can help him and I will, whether you like it or not," I concluded. 

I was about to cross the door to the corridor when Mikey grabbed my shoulder. "Gee, wait. I only wanted to help you think about it a little better, see if you were one hundred percent sure of what you were about to do. I put the situation into words to make you hear the...bare truth. Now that I know you're decided, I'm not going to object to it. I'm proud of you, I really am even though I still think you're crazier than that boy," he said in a tender brotherly way this time. I couldn't carry on with my annoyance.  


"Thank you, lil' bro!" I chuckled and gave him a hug. "I'll try to not disappoint you."  


"This is about you, not me," he winked. "By the way, what's your guess on the missing pages and information in Frank's ID?"  


"I bet his mother had something to do with it, though I don't know why she'd go that far. I'll have to find out somehow. Right now, all I can think of is that I need that shower."  


"I agree..." Mikey wrinkled his nose.  


******

 Finding some clean clothes and underwear in my bag, I placed them on the toilet seat. I turned on the shower and mixed cold water with just a tiny bit of hot to get the perfect temperature. I got naked slowly, my dusty clothes discharged in a pile on the floor.  


Getting in the bathtub, I let my tired body receive the stream as a blessing. I allowed the water to run along my hair down to my feet, closing my eyes and tossing my head back. A couple of minutes were set aside for relaxation before I started to actually clean myself; inhaling the herbal shampoo my mother had always loved, feeling the creamy white soap on my skin.  


I got out reluctantly when I remembered that the others must be waiting for me to have dinner. I was almost ready, just drying my head with a towel still bare-chested. Before I could get my t-shirt on I heard Alicia scream in the living room.  


"FRANKIE, NO! THAT'S NOT THE..."

I freaked out, ran there in a hurry fearing the worst. However, what I saw -at least without going further into it- was more funny than anything else. Frankie was standing in a corner peeing inside one of my mom's big, elegantly decorated vases.  


"Let him finish," I whispered to Alicia. Once I saw Frankie zip up his jeans I approached him. 

He looked bemused and was scratching his head, yet he smiled at me. "Wh-why she was s-screaming?"  


"Because...he saw you peeing there."  


"Wh-what?"  


"She saw you peeing into something that wasn't the toilet..." I continued. 

He appeared deep in thought for a few seconds. "Y-yes it w-was."  


"No, Frankie..."  


"Y-YES IT WAS!"  


Alicia took his hand and walked him to the vase. "This is what you used, see? What is it?" she talked to him like you would a little kid.  


"A...a v-vase. B-big one," he assured. Now I was the confused one. "B-BUT I D-DIDN'T PEE IN H-HERE, NO I D-DIDN'T. N-NO. I...I DID IN THE B-BATHROOM!"  


I considered that it was enough of trying to make him see the truth, specially with this night being one of his worst so far.

"It's ok, it's ok. It doesn't matter, I wouldn't get mad anyway. Let's do something: if you need to go to the bathroom you tell me or whoever is with you and we'll guide you there, yes?"  


"K-kay. B-but it was a t-toilet I s-swear."  


"I know, I believe you. Just in case."  


"Did I understand well? He..." I covered Mikey's mouth with my hand before he could speak it all. 

"Yes, that old vase is too dirty and needs to be washed, what I'll do right now." Alicia lifted the object. Passing Mikey by, she kissed him briefly. 

He grinned and looked into the thing his girlfriend was holding. "Ewww. Next time I'll find a crap on my bed! I better go finish dinner."  


"M-my boyfriend n-never let me k-kiss him like th-that. N-never kissed me e-either. N-no. I w-wanted to k-kiss like in m-movies. C-can you do th-that with an-another boy?" Frankie startled me. I didn't know he was still standing behind me.

With a smile, I remembered what he'd told me about a boyfriend, and how they didn't do many 'boyfriend things'. Their relationship must have been pretty naive if they wouldn't even kiss.  


"Yes, Frankie! Two boys can kiss like in movies too. Maybe he wasn't ready for kissing. Did you...hold hands?"  


"N-nope, no h-holding hands. I'd l-like that too." He grabbed one of mine. He'd once again gotten me intrigued and I wanted to find out more, but he wasn't paying attention. He was staring, though not at my face this time.  


"What are you doing?"  


"S-smooth..." he uttered, running his other hand along my chest.  


"Oh, fuck! Alicia!"  


"Yes?" she reappeared.  


"Can you stay with him again? Just one minute, I need to put my t-shirt on. Now." I didn't wait for her answer to disappear, the boy was making a mess out of my mind.

******  


Alicia, Frankie and I were watching cartoons when Mikey announced that dinner was ready.  


"G-good, I'm s-so hungry!" Frank stood up quickly.  


"Me too! Come with me." I placed a hand on his shoulder. 

We walked to the kitchen and sat around the small square table. My brother had already served our plates. When Alicia took the bottle and poured Coke in our glasses, I noticed that Frank's was plastic. Mikey must not have trusted him with something breakable, which had been wise.  


I spread some grated cheese on my spaghetti and thrust my fork into them, letting hunger get the best of me. Then I saw Frankie from the corner of my eye. His hair was on his face so I didn't know how he could even see. His hands were trembling badly, making it hard for him to get the food into his fork and up to his mouth without it falling on the way.  


"Frankie? Let me help you," I suggested. I first adjusted his hair behind his ears. When I was going to take the fork from his hand he resisted.  


"N-no."

"I can help you, really. You don't have to be ashamed. Your hands..."  


"I...I c-can do it by m-myself, I'm u-used to it, s-sometimes it's a l-lot worse," he said. A strong boy, indeed. Yet there was something I didn't understand.  


"Oh ...ok, but then you've always had this problem? I mean...the tremble in your hands? Even being at the institution?" I had thought it was because he wasn't taking his pills.  


"Y-yep and w-worse. Y-yes. G-grace said it's 'c-cause of the meds," he responded. So, the effect seemed to linger on even though he hadn't been medicated for days.  


"Ouch...poor baby," Alicia said from the heart.  


I thought about how he had also to suffer from the medication and I felt a lot worse for him. On the other hand I admired him, because in spite of all Frankie smiled most of the time, he enjoyed life, he tried to adapt to his problems as much as he could. Meanwhile I, fucking selfish bastard, had had suicidal thoughts more than once; the last time just minutes before meeting him. I'd never been religious, but this kid seemed heaven sent.

"Are you sure you can, then?" I questioned Frank again.  


"Y-yes but c-can I have another f-fork?"  


"Sure," I gave him what he requested and waited to see what he'd do with it. 

He grabbed one fork on each full hand, the way a child who's just learning would. Then he started to pick the spaghetti with both forks at the same time, nearing his mouth to the plate so not many would fall. The rest of us looked at each other smiling.  


"That's a very good method," Mikey commented. 

Frank grinned, the lower part of his face covered in tomato sauce.  


"Mikey, you and mom are a good cooking couple. This tastes delicious!" I told him.  


"Coming from you that's a great compliment!"  


"What are you implying? That I'm a bad brother who never tells you when you do something well?" I joked, though it was true that sometimes I wasn't too demonstrative with him.  


"I wouldn't say never but..."  


"I know, I know. I'll try to include that in my changing plans."  


"Good."  


"G-gee...help me d-drink? Th-the glass is too f-full and I'm g-gonna spill it," Frank whispered to me, cleaning himself with his napkin.  


"Course!" I took the red plastic glass and brought it to his nearly red lips. I couldn't help staring at them, the way they wrapped around the edge of the cup. I obliged myself to remove my eyes, it would make me look perverted. 

Frank pull his mouth away. "Th-thanks."  


******

After dinner, I thought it was a good time for Frank to take a bath. Alicia offered to fill up the bathtub for him but I decided a shower would be safer. I got all ready and borrowed a t-shirt from Mikey, since Frankie had nothing comfortable enough to sleep in. I was going to fetch him when I remembered something. Grabbing a shoe box from my closet I put into it everything found in the bathroom that could be harmful in Frank's hands. I ended up with a full box, just to be sure, and placed it on top of the closet.  


When I finally summoned him, he came with some black boxers in his hand.

"Well, everything's ready. I turned on the shower and it's at a good temperature. I'll leave the door semi open and wait outside. So anything you need you let me know, ok?"  


"K-kay! Uh...G-gerard?"  


"Yes?"  


"W-wanna shower with m-me?" he smiled innocently, eyes shining under his long locks. 

Having been caught off guard, I started to play with a forgotten coin in my pocket nervously. "No...thanks. I already took a shower, remember?"  


"Oh...y-yeah..." he trailed off. "I...I'm g-going then."  


"Okay." I didn't know what to think. What did those insinuations mean?  


I sat on the floor of the corridor next to the bathroom door to be at hand if Frank needed something. He appeared to be doing fine, though. I could hear him sing, but wasn't able to figure out the songs. In another moment he talked as if he was having a conversation. I understood something about 'washing yourself well behind the ears and between your ass cheeks' which got me laughing for a good while.  


When I was close to falling asleep against the wall, Frank opened the door and stepped out. His hair was dripping water and Mikey's white t-shirt looked like a dress on him, making him look even smaller.  


As soon as we were back in the living room, Alicia went for a towel and dried Frank's hair. She then brushed it, being careful not to cause any pain. He complained a lot nevertheless.  


"Ready for bed?" I invited him.  


"Y-yeah.  


"Where is he gonna sleep?" Alicia questioned.  


"In my bed, it's ready. I was thinking that I'll have to sleep with him. It's the only way to know if he gets up or something and be able to sleep myself."  


"I think you're right," she half-giggled.  


"Al...please," I warned her. I knew what she was thinking, and it was far from the truth. I had no other intentions than what I had just told her. "You staying?"  


"Yes, I think. Can I, Mikey?"  


"It's not like my mom never found you sleeping with me before," Mikey noted.  


"Good night to both of you, then," I told them.  


"G-good night!" Frankie said too.  


"Night, boys! Alicia and I will stay a little longer watching some movies. We promise to keep the volume low."  


"Good night, Gerard! Night, Frankie boy!" she kissed us both and ran to the couch.

In my room, I realised that I hadn't changed my clothes. I didn't want to do it in front of Frank, and leaving him alone wasn't a good idea. I opted for just taking off my jeans and sleeping in the t-shirt I was wearing.  


"W-wow! B-batman sheets!" Frank exclaimed.  


"Like them?"  


"Y-yes! Uhm n-no, you go s-sleep on the f-floor, Puppy!"  


"He can sleep at our feet, I don't mind," I affirmed. 

Frank climbed on the bed and started to jump. "G-good, good, g-good! N-no you sh-shut up! IT...IT'S M-MY DOG!" he screamed, sitting down and swinging his body.  


"Frankie, let's sleep. You'll feel better tomorrow, you've had some hard days." I opened the sheets for him to join me in bed. He didn't move, still balancing and murmuring. I touched his arm softly.  
"Frankie?" He raised his head. "Come on..."  


"Y-yeah..." he got on his knees and hands, moved towards me and slid under the sheets.  


"Good night." I kissed his forehead. He contemplated the ceiling.

I had already closed my eyes when I felt an arm across my chest. Next...soft, humid lips grazed my left cheek, sending shivers down my spine.  


"G-good night, Gee," a not so childish voice said. He then placed his head under my chin, sighing contently.  


I sensed him shake slightly against my body for a long time, keeping me from sleeping. Luckily he eventually relaxed, defeated by fatigue. I let my mind drift into unconsciousness, hoping for a good night of rest at last.


	10. Chapter 10

_If it's the thought that counts, you can always count on me,  
I think about it all the time.  
It's going to hit me like a bolt of white lightning.  
Here it comes, my peace of mind._   


I woke up and slowly opened my eyes. I had slept so deeply and uninterruptedly that I couldn't tell how much time had passed by. Enough, I thought, since I felt completely rested. Frankie must not have moved much during the night, or if he had I never noticed.

Glancing at the shutters, I perceived a ray of light filtering. I checked my alarm clock and saw it was 7:30. Thinking of how quiet Frank was, I turned on the lamp to look at his side of the mattress. He was not there. First fucking day and I had already failed to notice him sneaking out.  


I jumped off the bed, cursing myself as I put my jeans on. I searched inside each room until I got to the kitchen, where Mikey and Alicia were having breakfast before leaving for college. Mikey, Alicia...and Frankie. He was sitting next to the girl with a big bowl of milk and cereal in front of him, eating noisily. Looking closer I saw that Frank's hair was tied up with a pink strip.  


"Good morning, kids!" I greeted them.  


"Morning!" the couple answered with one voice. Frank got up and tiptoed to kiss my cheek, to which I responded with a tender kiss on his forehead.  


"G-good morning, G-gerard!"  


"Good morning, Frankie! Why didn't you call me when you got up?"  


"Uhm I...I d-didn't know," he said. He was right, I hadn't told him to do it.  


"It doesn't matter, go and finish your cereal."  


"K-kay," he nodded and went back to the table.  


"How long has he been up?" I asked them, still blaming myself even though everything was fine. "I don't know how I didn't hear him leaving the bed..."  


"Not more than fifteen minutes, actually. I found him entranced by the corridor's mirror, talking to it. So I took him to the bathroom, helped him choose some clothes and brought him here," Alicia explained.  


"Gerard, don't beat yourself over it. You were exhausted, that's why you didn't realise that he got up," Mikey said.  


"Yeah, I guess so. Alicia...why is that pink thing on Frankie's hair?" I questioned. 

She giggled. "Oh, don't be mean! It was getting into the bowl and that pink thing was the only thing I had at hand. Maybe you should have his hair cut?"  


"N-NO!" Frank screamed.  


"Oh, wow! It seems the kid likes his hair too much!" Mikey laughed. "Come on, Frankie, there's nothing wrong with getting it cut. Besides...you kinda look like a girl the way you have it now."  


"Mikey leave him alone, it's his hair!" his girlfriend stopped him.  


"Shut up Al, you can deny he looks like a girl!"  


"I...I D-DON'T FUCKING C-CARE IF I L-LOOK LIKE A GIRL! N-NO ONE WILL T-TOUCH MY H-HAIR, I L-LIKE IT!"  


I thew a piece of bread at Mikey's face and sat next to Frank, hugging him. "Frankie, Mikey's just joking with you. No one will touch your hair if you don't want to. You're a grown boy so that's _your_ decision. I'd never make you do it against your will, do you trust me?" I spoke. 

Frank looked at me, catching his breath. He got really agitated when angry. "Y-yes."  


"Good, then. If Mikey gets annoying again I'll kick his ass," I promised. Frankie laughed and I could hear my brother mumble in between his teeth.

Grabbing another bowl from the cupboard, I prepared some cereal for myself. Alicia and Mikey had already finished and were getting their stuff together.  


"Hey Mikes, why isn't mom home? She should by now..."  


"She called half an hour ago. The nurse who was going to take over the shift was sick, so they asked her to stay. After that she was gonna go for something to eat with her friends."  


"Uh, ok...I'll have to come visit her some other time, then."  


"Can't you wait?" Mikey frowned.  


"I prefer not to. I want to go home as soon as possible, there are many things that I need to organize. Don't mention anything about Frankie to her yet, I'll do it myself," I told him.  


"If you say so..."

I suddenly remembered my pending conversation with Alicia. I couldn't leave without knowing what had taken her to make those assumptions. It was true that Frankie acted weird towards me for moments, but she seemed to have perceived something more, even in me. I was confused, scared. It would maybe do me some good to talk to someone who was open-minded.  


"Alicia, can we talk for a minute...in private?" I asked her. "Mikey, please watch Frankie."  


"But...but he's angry at me, he..."  


"Just keep an eye on him and call me if there's any problem."  


"Ok, ok." He wasn't convinced.

Alicia observed Mikey's dramatic roll-of-eyes and my fidgeting figure with a comic expression, indicating me with a nod that she was at my disposal. I took her wrist and guided her to my room.  


"What do you wanna talk about, Gee? Oh...I know...what I said last night, right? Well, what I _wrote_ ," she smirked.  


"Exactly. Look...that wasn't the first time Frank acted that way with me. A couple of times in the car I...I could have sworn that he was trying to seduce me."  


"Really?" her jaw fell.  


"Yes...his voice kinda changes sometimes, like he's 'playing sexy'. He told me he likes me very much and almost kissed me in the mouth once. And remember when I ran to put on my shirt?"  


She laughed. "Yes, I do."  


"Frank was staring at my bare chest, and then touched it and said 'smooth'. What the fuck? He confuses me so much, because then he goes back to acting like a child!"  


"Well Gerard, I guess that's normal for someone who's mentally ill. The changes, I mean. But I do think he's falling in love with you. I can see it. We women have a sixth sense, you know?"  


"I know..." I rolled my eyes. I was worried, though. "Oh fuck..."

"What do _you_ feel? And don't tell me about how it would be wrong or any other excuse. Forget about his condition. What do you feel for Frankie?" Alicia interrogated me.  


"Wh-what? I'm not gay, Al!" I defended myself. I had never given her reasons to think that. What's more, I'd broken up with my girlfriend a couple of months ago.  


"Oh come on, Gee. Again, sixth sense. I'm not accusing you, but I've always thought there's something that you haven't told us. You didn't seem to be in love with Laura even though she was a nice girl. Something else was bothering you after you broke up with her other than the ended relationship"  


"Alicia...I don't wanna talk about that."  


"It's ok, I wasn't going to make you tell me. But don't close yourself to a new possibility."  


"But Frank is..." I cut my words short. I'd be nearly confessing my feelings without wanting it if I went on. 

She gave me a smile of knowledge, reading in my eyes all the doubts I wasn't able speak out. "You'd have to be extra careful and take things very slowly, sure, but it's not impossible. Give it time, you've just met each other. See how Frank acts from now on and where this take you both. Don't completely push him away. This could be good for both of you, who knows?" she continued, her hand on my shoulder.  


"Thanks." I wasn't ready to discuss the subject further. As she had said, it was too soon. "Now we should go back there, Mikey wasn't too happy."  


"He just loves to complain, don't mind him."  


In the kitchen everything was in order. Frankie was sitting on the floor, looking at the wall and laughing while Mikey read some notes.  


"I have no idea what he's doing there, but it didn't seem dangerous so I let him be." He didn't raise his eyes from the paper.  


"You did well Mikes, don't worry."  


"Well, we better be going, it's already late!" Alicia rushed him, getting a grunt in return. Then she walked to Frankie and kissed both his cheeks. "Bye, sweetness! I promise to visit you soon, be a good boy."  


"B-bye!" he took off the pink strip and gave it back to her.  


"You can keep it if you want," Alicia offered.  


"N-nah, like it l-loose!"  


"You're right, so much better!"  


"Bye, Frankie!" Mikey touched the boy's head. 

Frank avoided him. "N-no bye to y-you, you're m-mean. I...I'm s-still angry. P-puppy doesn't l-like you either!!" he spat. 

My brother eyed me, looking for help. I had to make an effort to contain the laughter.  


"Your fault, Mikes!"  


******  


After they left, I collected mine and Frank's things making sure I wasn't forgetting anything. In the meantime he was crawling around the living room, rolling on over the carpet and throwing Puppy something for the dog to seek and bring back to him. I hadn't seen what the thing exactly was, but got curious after a while of hearing Frankie congratulate his pet. Whatever he was throwing, was _surely_ not going back; so why the congratulations?  


"Hey Frankie, it seems your doggie's well trained! What are you making him seek?"  


"Th-this rubber b-ball!" he showed me his right hand forming a 'c'; an imaginary ball that his imaginary dog would always bring back.  


"Nice! Well kiddo, time to go home, take your bag and puppy," I announced opening the front door.  


"Y-yay! I...I w-wanna see your h-house!" he jumped up, ready in two seconds.

I grabbed his hand as I turned the key. "Your house too, now."   


"C-cool."  


******

I did love driving. I usually enjoyed it. However, after all those days I had spent doing it, my car wasn't the best sight. At that moment I wished with all my might that I was able to teleport. Knowing that my wish wouldn't be granted, I opened my too-warm-for-summer machine's door and we got in.  


For the first part of the ride Frankie was mostly quiet, stroking and kissing his dog. Eventually he became more restless, whispered something and bended. I interpreted that he'd left Puppy on the floor.  


"H-he wanted to sleep th-there," he commented.  


"That's because it's too hot for him to sleep on your lap," I tried an explanation just to converse with him. 

By the time I concluded my phrase, Frank's face had changed and he didn't seem to hear me. "N-nowhere. Th-there, right? J-jumping. N-no. Or...y-yes. Is...is it?" he put some words together that didn't make any sense, just as I had heard him do before. This time, though, he kept looking at me, waiting for an answer. 

I didn't want to make him feel bad but there was nothing I could say, so I assented with my head.  


"O-okay, then," he said, apparently contented.  


I was grateful that Frankie's incoherent talk stopped there. I knew I would have to get used to it, but it wasn't something I was willing to endure to be honest.  


"Y-you looked so p-pretty while you w-were sleeping," he blurted out as I stopped the car at a traffic light. His voice was something in between shy and provocative. Or it could also be just my mind playing tricks on me.  


"I'm not pretty, Frankie. Not awake, nor sleeping," I retorted.  


"Y-yes you are! Y-you are so, so h-handsome." There it was that word again. "I r-really like you, G-gee," he added in a whisper.  


"Uh...thanks." was the only reply I could think of.  


I first welcomed the silence that followed. It was pleasurable and calming until I began to find it suspicious. Frank didn't appear to be sleepy the last time I'd checked, so that complete tranquility was alarming. When I dared to look at him -I was honestly scared after the scissors incident- I saw that his mouth was moving, yet I couldn't hear anything; at least not among the roar of the car's engine. I paid more attention to what he was doing: one hand was open against the window, the other was rubbing his crotch nonchalantly.  


"Frankie...what are you doing?" I felt obviously uncomfortable. 

He turned to me with a puzzled look.  "N-nothing...." His innocence wasn't faked.  


"There..." I pointed to the area at issue.  


"Oh...I...d-didn't...sorry, n-no..." he withdrew his hand. I was able to see a noticeable bulge in his pants.  


"It's ok. Just...not here, you know?" I tried to keep my eyes off him.  


"Y-yeah," he responded. I wasn't sure if he had understood what I was talking about.  


Not even two minutes had passed when I heard Frankie fidget in his seat. I slowly looked and found out that he was, again, jacking off through his jeans. Strange as it might sound, there didn't seem to be any second intention in it. He wasn't doing that in front of me on purpose, I knew that. He didn't seem to be aware of anything or remember that I was there. He was evidently acting by instinct to a necessity. I didn't dare interrupt him again, maybe he wouldn't even comprehend what wrong he'd done.

I didn't want to watch, but as much as I tried to keep my eyes on the road I caught myself staring once in a while. It was too tempting, I was only human. In the beginning Frank's face was blank, not mirroring his actions. He was looking through the window, murmuring to himself. When the pace became quicker his breath accompanied. He was bucking his hips and finally threw his head back, whimpering slightly.  


His climax coincided with the next traffic light, and luckily no other car was close to us. I admired his face transformed by pleasure. His eyes shut, eyelids fluttering, mouth semi opened. While staring, I didn't exactly think in a sexual way. I thought of how beautiful Frank was. How he, after all, wasn't a kid. His mind could be confused, yet his body knew better.  


And sure, he was 'hot', many women and men would have said that. But for me, calling Frank 'hot' sounded disrespectful. Not only due to his mental condition, also because he was much more than that. A word with such a sexual connotation seemed far-fetched.  


Maybe it was my way of thinking which kept me from getting hard myself, and I was glad of that. It would have felt wrong.  


Frank had finished and was panting, still absentminded. "G-gee?" he said some minutes later.  


"Yes?"  


"I...uh...I th-think I wet my p-pants," he confessed. I felt tempted to ask him what had happened to test if he had any consciousness of it, but it might have made him feel embarrassed whether he knew or not.  


"No problem, we'll be home in about half an hour so you'll be able to change," I smiled, reassuring. He nodded.  


"D-do you like el-elephants?" he questioned me, childishly again.  


"Yes I do, why?"  


"'C-cause some are f-following us. S-see?" he pointed back.  


"True! Is that bad?"  


"Th-they're not b-bad but c-could be bad if...if they c-crushed us! G-go faster p-please?" Frankie pleaded, a little scared. 

I wasn't going fast at the moment, so I accelerated as he wanted. 

"W-we're safe now," he sighed alleviated.  


******  


Our seemingly eternal ride finally came to an end and I was certain that my eyes lighted up upon devising home as much as Frank's did when I let him know we had arrived. As we stepped into the garden, his curious gaze traveled from the humble, low building and its dirty walls to the deserted ground before it. The enormous grin he'd been sporting faltered.  


"I...I l-like it a lot but wh-why you h-have no plants?"  


"I've never had the patience for them. If you want, we can get some in the future and you'll take care of them," I proposed. That could even be a good kind of therapy for him, something to keep him occupied and make him feel useful.  


"Y-yeah I'd l-like that," he answered, though once again he wasn't showing much emotion. "Th-they let us p-plant flowers sometimes wh-where I lived."  


"You liked it?"  


"Y-yes. I...I d-did," he continued in that same dull tone.

My house was small and simple, with just the necessities. Upon entering you had the living room with one lonely couch that fit three people. In front of it the TV and DVD player and a wooden coffee table in between. Against the wall, a six-shelved cane shelving full of books and CDs. Then there was the kitchen with two very narrow cupboards, three drawers next to the stove and a round red table with four chairs. My room only featured a king-sized bed -the first thing I had bought when I started earning my own money, an old oak wardrobe my grandma had granted me, and a chair that served as nightstand.  


It was enough for me, and I hoped it would be for Frankie too. He was smiling as we got into the house, his eyes roaming through each room, taking in every detail. Probably wanting to memorize every inch of what was going to be his home from now on.  


After he got changed and we had lunch -thanks to my reserve of cheese noodles- I took a look around. Everything was covered in dust since I hadn't been there for almost a week. Even before that I hadn't been in the mood for cleaning.  


"Frankie, would you like to help me clean the house? You don't have to, of course."  


"Y-yeah, c-could be fun!" he said, catching invisible flying bugs.

He shared the task with me for a while until he lost interest and asked me to turn on the TV for him. He told me the ones they had at the institution were out of reach, so he hadn't learned how to operate them.  


"Why are you sat on the table instead of the couch, Frankie?"  


"TV's t-too small, c-can't see from th-there," he explicated.  


"Could you see the ones they had where you lived?" I was thinking of how high they'd put the TVs in those places.  


"N-not anymore, b-but Grace let me w-watch hers s-sometimes. Y-yes."  


"Let's do something." I dragged the TV as close to the couch as the cord allowed. Frank dropped himself into it again.  


"Better now?"  


"Y-yes, better. Th-thanks!"  


When I checked on Frankie again, he had fallen asleep. I considered that it was a perfect time to get all dangerous objects in the house out of his range.  


I walked into the bedroom and glanced at the empty bottles discarded under the bed. Taking a deep breath, I collected them and shoved them into a plastic bag. Right after that I went to the fridge, took out the remaining beers and emptied them in the sink. With the last one in my hands, I felt myself crave it and I thought of having a goodbye sip. I brought it close to my lips, the smell of malt reaching my nose. Then my cellphone rang.  


It was a text message from my brother: "What's Frankie's last name?"  


"Why do you wanna know that?" I texted back.  


"Just tell me."  


"Iero."  


"Ok. Bye."

Wondering why my brother needed Frank's last name, I set my eyes back on the green bottle in my hands. So tempting. My arm flexed, complying to my desires.  


"Just a couple of sips," I shrugged. 

My lips were inches from the spout when a screamed 'STOP!' made me freeze. I ran out of the kitchen leaving the bottle upside down, pouring out its contents into the sink.  


"What's up, Frankie?" I called. 

He was covering his head with a cushion. "Th-the gnomes are m-making too much n-noise and don't l-let me sleep," was his answer.  


So well-timed again. He took care of me without even noticing.

******  


Nearing the night, I decided to make a call. Some things needed to be arranged without delay. Frankie was using the couch as a trampoline and giggling, so I had to sharpen my ear to be able to hear the other person pick up the phone.  


"Hi?"  


"Ray, is that you?"  


"Yeah! Gerard? Man, I've missed you! Oh, first of all you can relax, all your debts are paid."  


"Thank you so much, I owe you one," I said sincerely.  


"Nah, what are friends for? And it's not like I paid with my own money, anyway! How's your new friend?" he surprised me. I hadn't talked to him at all after finding Frank.  


"How do you...? Mikey," I guessed.  


"Yeah, he called earlier today and put me up to date."  


"Why does he always have to tell everybody about my things? Doesn't he have his own life?"  


"Don't be mad at him! He thinks you're nuts, but is proud of you all the same. So how's he?"  


"Frankie? He's fine I guess."  


"Oh, h-hiiiii!" Frankie said into the phone, falling on his knees next to me. I laughed and caressed his hair.  


"That was him, right?" Ray laughed. "He sounds...hyper."  


"Very much so."  


"I'll have to meet him!"  


"About that...Ray, are you free tonight? I need to talk to you in person."  


"Yeah sure, want me to go over there now?"  


"Y-yeah come, we l-like visits!" Frankie took the phone from my hands. He had been listening to the conversation gluing his ear to mine.  


"Well, there was a little intermission but yes, get your butt here and I'll tell you," I got the handset back.  


"Ok. The kid already sounds at home, speaking for both of you," Ray pointed out. I didn't understand what he had meant at first.  


"Oh...that! Uh...I don't think he was including me when he said 'we', actually."  


"I think I get it... See you there, then!"  


"See you!"  


"S-SEE YOU!"  


"Frankie, you're gonna leave him deaf!" I covered his mouth with my hand. He giggled and bit my finger. Badly.  


"AHHH! What the fuck are you? I thought Puppy was the dog here!" I protested, examining the teeth marks Frank had left. 

He burst into a fit of laughter. I had never seen anyone laugh so hard for such a long time. He rolled on the floor, shed tears, punched and kicked and appeared to be choking. His face was totally red. I tried to calm him but the attempt was unsuccessful. Several minutes later he stopped, sitting on the couch exhausted.  


That didn't last. As soon as I got distracted by the TV show I was watching, he disappeared. When I found him, he was about to introduce something into a socket.  


"NO!" I pulled him away from it.  


"B-but there are an-ants in there!" he justified. The boy just wouldn't give me a break.  


"Ants? That's a socket, it has electricity. No ant could get in there, kid."  


"Y-yes they can, s-see? L-loooong file getting in and o-out. L-lemme go p-play with th-them."  


"No you won't play with that. We'll leave this chair against it so no more ants will get out. Come with me." 

Without letting go of Frank I called Ray's cellphone. "Ray, would you do me a favor on your way here?"  


"Yeah, sure."  


Would you buy...at least four of those plastic protection things you put into sockets for little children not to get their fingers or anything else in there?" I hoped he would know what I meant. "If you don't find those just buy duct tape."  


"Ok! How old is he, 2?" he laughed.  


"18..."  


"I...I'll be there in no more than 15 minutes."

Ray was welcomed by a rather out-of-control Frankie. That could make what I needed to ask of my best friend harder.  


"Got you what you needed," he handed me a little bag.  


"Thanks! Wait a minute, I'll go set these. He'll end up electrocuted otherwise." I got all the sockets covered and went back to my friend.

First I started by telling Ray all I knew about Frank and the things he'd usually do. I didn't have to worry for the boy hearing me talk about him, he was too busy giving a show over the coffee table; singing as high as he could or announcing the tricks his dog would perform.  


"Gerard...are you sure you can take care of him?" he questioned rubbing his head, the hand lost under his profuse, curly brown hair. A few minutes with Frankie and he'd already gotten a headache.  


"Yes, I'm sure. It's not always this bad. Besides....he'll be better once I can take him to a doctor to medicate him, I hope."

"Y-you have f-funny hair! B-bet there are l-little people l-living in here!" Frank played with Ray's afro.  


"Not that I know, but I'll check just in case," he chuckled. 

Frank returned to his 'stage', now playing air guitar. 

"How are you gonna pay for his medication?"  


"Getting a job, definitely. But...that's where I need you. To look for a job, as well as to go to work once I find one, I need someone to take care of Frankie."  


"Yes and...are you...?"  


"You're free until late afternoon, aren't you?" I shamelessly dared to ask him.  


"Yeah. I'm busy tomorrow and maybe once in a month when my dad needs me to help with the loads," he responded. He worked with his dad at a music store. His father, who had never liked me for a reason unknown to me, and who would never ever give me a job.  


"I really want to start looking tomorrow, guess I can take Frank with me for a day. Would you look after him beginning with the day after? I swear I'll pay you once I find a job." I closed my eyes, afraid of Ray's answer. If he didn't accept I would be lost, I couldn't think of anyone else. 

I heard him sigh loudly. "I can't promise you anything, but I'll try. I'll see how we get along, not sure if I'm prepared to look after a schizophrenic boy. And forget about paying me, you'll need all the money you'll be getting."  


"Thank you Ray, you're a life saver!" I jumped and hugged the hell out of him.  


"Is it contagious or what?" he laughed.  


"H-human pile!" Frankie screamed, falling on us.

"Pizza?" I consulted them once I managed to escape, phone in hand.


	11. Chapter 11

_Too much, too fast maybe,  
I don't know where my destiny's taking me,  
so I'll go wherever it leads me.  
Too high, too low baby.  
I wanna know where my destiny's taking me,  
so I'll go to make you believe me._

The next day started early again. It was a good thing that Frankie had been so hyper during Ray's visit the night before. He had fallen asleep quite fast -after expressing how much he liked the big bed and jumping on it. He did wake up a couple of times screaming and shaking, but I managed to pacify him by holding him and whispering to him. He was still sleeping when I got up to prepare breakfast and I only called him when it was almost ready.

Frank seemed to be rather contemplative that morning. Maybe if he stayed like this for some hours it'd be better for what we needed to do. He seldom behaved the same way for long, though.  


"Do you know where we're going now?" I asked him during breakfast. "Frankie?" I snapped my fingers and he jumped, taking the spoon he'd abandoned with an unsteady hand. I repeated the question patiently.  


"N-no..."  


"I need to go look for a job, and you'll have to come with me because Ray can't look after you today. Understand?" I spoke slowly, seeing as he wasn't too attentive.  


"Y-yeah. S-so we're g-going out?" he was more interested now.  


"Yep."  


"R-really?"  


"Yes, Frankie. Be prepared because we might be walking a lot."  


"Oh! I...I've never b-been out much. Th-they took kids out s-sometimes but only l-let me go a f-few. W-wasn't safe for me," he said while drowning sugared cornflakes into milk. White splatter was all over the table.  


"Well, I'm letting you come for sure. I'll take care of you and I know you'll be a good boy, won't you?"  


"Y-yes," he went back to the monosyllables.

Not without some fighting, I convinced Frank to let me fix his hair a little bit. It was soft and shiny in spite of its messy state. I straightened it with a comb, his long fringe to one side, while studying his delicate features. He was too entertained with Puppy on his lap -who was apparently biting his finger- to notice.  


"W-we have to feed him f-first!" he recalled when I had finished.  


"I already gave him some milk with bread." I got an amusing mental image of myself feeding a non existent dog. "We'll buy some dog food today."  


"K-kay, g-good."  


******

We left the house at 8. Since the commercial part of town wasn't far away, I considered walking as the most suitable -and economic- option.  


As we walked along the sidewalks, I could see the hostile looks some people were throwing us. I figured out what the reason could be: Frankie was certainly too old to be led by the hand like a little kid, so they were probably assuming that he was my boyfriend. Therefore I conjectured some of them were disgusted homophobes and the rest were thinking me a pedophile because, again, no one would say Frank was 18.  


"Frankie, remember that if anyone asks you who I am you have to tell them I'm your big brother." I wanted to stay out of trouble.  


"Wh-why can't I say w-we're boyfriends?" he surprised me.  


"We...we're not..." I choked.  


"N-not my brother e-either!" he laughed. For moments he seemed too smart. "I...I like to h-hold hands. It's l-like you _were_ m-my boyfriend," he added, applying pressure on my hand. 

I was sweating and the day hadn't gotten _that_ hot yet. "Frankie, I'll explain why at other moment but please, if someone asks, tell them I'm your brother, ok?"  


"Y-yeah, kay...y-you're mean," he mumbled.  


"Am I?" I fake pouted, making him giggle.  


"J-just a little." He put his thumb and index finger together.

Our first stop was a comic shop, for it was the kind of job I had before making myself unemployed. A paper attached to the window read 'salesman needed'. We entered the place and I noticed that it was fairly bigger than the one where I used to work, a real paradise for comic geeks. I kept Frank's hand in mine while approaching the prematurely aged man behind the counter.  


"Good morning, what do you need?" he greeted us.  


"I'm here about the ad on the window, I need a job. My name's Gerard..."  


"Ok, Gerard, fill this in and then I'll ask you some questions." The guy handed me a paper to annotate my information.  


"Frankie, I need both hands for a while. Stay right here beside me and _please_ don't touch anything," I instructed him.  


"K-kay."  


After completing it, I gave the paper back to the man who read it with half-assed interest.  


"It says here that you worked at a similar place until some weeks ago. What happened?" he asked. Oh, fuck.  


"Well, not much really I..."  


"G-gee..." Frank tugged at my t-shirt.  


"Shh...wait a minute, kid," I hushed him, carrying on with my explanation. "The thing was that I..."  


"G-gerard!" Frank insisted.  


"Frankie, I'm talking to the man here! What do you need?" I gave in. I knew he wouldn't stop until I listened to him.  


"Th-they have some of th-these with b-big not moving l-letters?" he pointed at a pile of comics on a shelf.  


"No, I don't think they do. I'll read some for you at home if you want, now be quiet."  


"Y-yay, p-please do!"  


"As I was saying..."  


"Mark," said the guy. I didn't like the look on his face.  


"As I was telling you Mark, I had a family emergency that compelled me to be out of town for more than a week. My boss wasn't too happy, but I had no option. When I came back, he had fired me," I lied brazenly. 

Mark didn't seem to buy my shit and was now looking at Frank. The boy was staring at the floor, whispering to himself.  


"Are you two related?"  


"Yes, he's my younger brother..." More lies.  


"Does he live with you?"  


"Yes, but someone would take care of him while I'm working. It's just that this person couldn't today," I explained. 

He thought for a while. "Ok, Gerard, I'll call you if I make a decision. But you must know that we prefer people without serious home compromises. Seeing as you have an ill relative...that could affect your reliability," he warned me. Damn, it was just a stupid comic shop I was applying for, not a huge important company!  


"I told you someone would take care of him," I remarked.  


"That's something that could fail, like today."  


"You know what? Forget it, bye! Good luck finding your perfect employee!" I waved to the man angrily. "Come on Frankie, I'm sure there must be some more understanding people somewhere."  


"Y-yeah...asshole," Frankie added. I was sure that he hadn't paid attention to what we talked. Maybe he just noticed I was angry and accurately concluded it was the guy's fault.  


We stepped out of shop and I was already in a terrible mood, regretting my hurried decision. It wouldn't have hurt to wait one more day to start looking for a job and it'd have spared me the questioning about Frank. Nevertheless I decided to give it some more tries.

I tried shoe stores, clothing stores, libraries, restaurants, groceries, supermarkets; at every place it was the same. Even if they were about to hire me, they'd start doubting once they noticed there was something wrong with Frank. And it was impossible for them not to notice. He drew people's attention instantly with his nervous tics, his spastic eyes, the shaking of his hands and how often he talked to himself.  


It was improbable that I could manage to distract people from Frankie, he wouldn't stay quiet. He'd shout his 'hellos', ask nonsensical questions, touch things he shouldn't and snap at me when I told him not, or just talk to my potential employers about things only he was seeing.

 I then resorted to plan B: telling them Frankie didn't live with me and was only visiting me for the day. Although I did my best to expound my plan to him, it didn't work; the boy took upon the task of making everybody know that I was lying, one of the situations ending up in nearly chaos. I insisted on my lie too much and Frankie, choosing the worst moment to be attentive, freaked out at me. He screamed that I was mean and a liar and didn't want him in my house. I had to admit the truth in front of that record store's owners so Frankie would calm down, and even then it wasn't easy to get him to understand.

"I...I'm still s-staying at your h-house, then?" he questioned worried, with teary eyes.  


"Of course you are, Frankie! I was lying because they say I can't take care of you _and_ work efficiently. They know nothing." I hugged him.  


"K-kay. Y-you're so nice, G-gee."  


"So he _does_ live with you..." one of the men who had mutely witnessed Frank's episode asked for confirmation.  


"Yeah, sorry, I lied. He's schizophrenic and lives with me. A friend would take care of him while I'm working but of course, things happen and there _could_ be times when I'd have to stay with him. Can't say it won't happen. Evidently, no one's gonna employ me because of a supposition."  


"We understand; but if we took you it'd be unfair for other people who are more likely to have perfect attendance," the older guy noted.  


I was going to reply -in a not very polite way- but something was more important: Frank wasn't there anymore. Looking through the glass door I got to see him running away and didn't waste any more time to chase after him. 

Once outside I glanced around until I spotted him advancing at a rapid pace, about to cross the street.  


"Frankie, stop!" I called, but he didn't hear me. 

I rushed behind him, yet feeling as if I was moving in slow motion while I watched Frank walk straight into a car. I thought it was too late, I wouldn't reach him. Then a hand that wasn't mine caught him by his t-shirt.  


"L-LEMME GO YOU B-BITCH, LEMME G-GO!" Frank screamed at the middle-aged woman by the bus stop, trying to escape.  


"Not if you're going to walk into the traffic again, kid," she said.  


"Oh, my God! Thank you so much for saving him!" I told her, my smoker lungs giving me trouble to breathe. "We were inside there and...and he disappeared. I thought he..."  


"F-FUCKING L-LEMME GO N-NOW!" Frank continued.  


"You're welcome. I don't think this is the way to treat someone who saved your life, though. Hold him, I had enough of his kicking," the woman spoke annoyed.  


"Sorry he...he didn't mean to be rude," I apologized. She didn't answer. "Frankie, why did you do that? Why did you run out of the store?"  


"I...I s-saw a butterfly f-from inside and c-came after it," he nodded happily, once again ignorant to the danger.  


"Oh, kid...you can't even see the letters in a book, how could you see a butterfly from so far away?" I sounded a little cruel, but it was very tiring day.  


"I...s-saw it!"  


"Tell the lady here that you're sorry for being rude," I demanded.  


"N-no I w-won't. I...I didn't d-do anything!"  


"It's not necessary, don't worry. Just...keep him watched." The woman gave me a sympathetic look. I smiled thankfully and walked away with Frank.  


At this point, I was debating whether to go home to have lunch and continue my search the next day -alone. It seemed to be the best option, specially because it being past midday, there were more people on the streets and a lot of noise. Frank was getting nervous, he wasn't used to that.  


"Are you alright?" I asked him. 

His free arm was folded around his head. He watched me scared. "N-no. N-no I'm n-not. T-too much n-noise and...and p-people. D-don't like. N-no," he sniffed.  


"Wanna go home?"  


"Y-yes."  


"Ok, we'll do that now." I released his hand and put my arm around his shoulders instead.

As we crossed the street to follow the way home, I saw a big store in the corner. I'd chosen a different path in the morning, that's why we hadn't walked by it before. Under the large blue letters forming the name of the store, the sign read: 'Stationery and Art Supplies'. The kind of place where I'd be happy to work at. I thought of coming back the next day, but then I had a hunch. A need to do it right away.

I neared the building, directing my eyes to an exact point as if perfectly knowing what I was looking for and where. And there it was, neatly written on a white plasticized cardboard with black marker: 'Person with knowledge on the subject needed.'  


"Frankie, do you mind if I go into this place before leaving? It's the last one, I promise. It'll be quieter inside anyway," I consulted him. As much as I wanted to do it, I wouldn't force Frank if he didn't.  


"K-kay. L-last one, then h-home," he assented.

The mobile with colored transparent beads hanging from the door shook and tinkled musically as we got in. I found those objects annoying, but Frank thought differently. Being so easily fascinated, he stayed there jumping to try and reach it, contemplating it with a satisfied smile when his fingertips finally grazed it.

The store was spacious and organized. Ceiling-high metallic shelvings were placed all along the walls to the back and there was also a line of them in the middle, separating the place into two corridors. Three young employees were running from side to side helping the customers.  
At the front, to the left, there was a long gray counter. The obviously most expensive supplies were displayed behind it, in a lower shelving. That's where I headed for, greeting the elderly woman who had just given a man his change.

"How can I help you, young man?" she said in a sweet voice.  


"I'm looking for a job and I believe I could do well here, since I've been to art school and know about this kind of...stuff." I got nervous.  


"Oh, I see. Precisely, that's the area where we're needing someone else to orientate the customers." She smiled, diverting her eyes to Frankie who was dancing to the sound of the colliding beads. 

I didn't feel like hiding things anymore. "Oh...ma'am, first of all I need to tell you something."  


"Go ahead..."  


"Gerard."  


"Gerard. I like your name, a name for a smart person. What do you want to tell me?" she encouraged me to speak.  


"The boy there? He's my little brother who suffers from schizophrenia. A couple of days ago I brought him to live with me...he was in an institution. The thing is, I need a job to be able to buy his meds. My best friend agreed to take care of him while I'm out, only that he was busy today. I didn't want to wait one more day to start looking for a job so I took Frankie with me. Bad decision."  


"Frankie must be really happy to have you as his brother. Why do you say it was a bad decision to bring him with you?" the woman inquired.  


"Because...in every place I went to apply for a job the same thing happened: as soon as they realised that Frank wasn't normal they started with the 'buts' and 'we'll call you'. They said having an ill relative could affect my efficiency and reliability. So this time I wanted to be honest from the start. I _might_ need to stay home some days..." I confessed, surprised to see that the old lady was still smiling at me.  


"You really want the job, don't you?"  


"Definitely."  


"Do you feel you're prepared for it and will do your best to fulfill your duties?"  


"Yes I do, I will," I assured her. I was seriously decided to do things right this time.  


"Then that's enough for me. You're hired."  


"Just like that?" I asked incredulous.  


"Yes. Well, we'll make everything legal and in order tomorrow when you start," she explained.  


I almost jumped with excitement. "Tomorrow? Sounds perfect to me!"   


"Can I meet the famous Frankie?"  


"Of course...Frankie! Can you come over here, boy? This nice lady wants to meet you."  


He gave the amusing object a last glance and skipped to us. "H-hi! I'm F-frankie!"  


"Hello Frankie! I'm Sarah, Gerard's boss from now on." For the first time the word 'boss' didn't sound like 'monster' to me. "You liked the mobile on the door?"  


"Y-yes!" he nodded frantically.  


"A friend of mine makes them. I'll ask her to make one for you and I'll send it through your brother."  


"W-wow, yes!"  


"Gerard, your brother is just adorable. And a very handsome young man I must add. Both of you are, though you don't look very alike," Sarah commented.  


"Yeah, that's because we are half brothers. Frankie had a different mom and looks just like her."  


"Wh-what?" Frank got confused when he heard my new lie.  


"Poor baby doesn't understand about family issues, does he?" the woman ruffled his hair.  


"Nah...maybe it's better that way."  


"I agree. Oh, before I forget, I want you to know that if some day you have no one to stay with Frankie you can bring him. That way you wouldn't have to skip the day."  


"Are you sure? He's behaving now because he's tired, but can be rather difficult to deal with..." I let her know.  


"I'm sure we'd find something to keep him entertained. Do you like to read, Frankie?"  


"C-can't read. Nope. L-like but c-can't."  


"Oh...he doesn't know how to read?"  


"Yes, he does. He just can't see well, that's why he says he can't read. We'll solve that too once I get some money," I said.  


"We'll think of something else then, don't worry. I wish I could pay you something ahead, but we just made a big purchase and won't compensate what we invested until within a month or so," she apologized, _as if she had to_. She'd been nicer to us than anyone else had even tried to be. Not for a moment had I expected to get the money sooner than that, anyway.  


"Oh no, please don't worry about that, you've done enough for us! Thank you, Sarah, really. You're a great woman, I won't disappoint you," I told her heartily, reaching over the counter to kiss her cheek.  


"I know you won't, I read it in your face."  


Copying my actions, Frankie tried to get to Sarah, but his shorter stature wouldn't allow it. She inclined her body forward instead, grabbed his face and kiss his forehead.  


"Bye Frankie, please to meet you!"  


"B-bye. Th-thanks for b-being good to G-gee. O-other people were b-bad. Yeah. N-not good at all," he stated seriously. I felt like squeezing him, so sweet and innocent. And not always as completely unaware as it might seem.  


"I almost forget!" I turned back to Sarah. "What time do I have to be here?"  


"It's true, I never told you. We open at 8 am, but it's ok if you arrive a little later, anything earlier than 9 is fine to me, and your day ends at 4 pm."  


"That's perfect, leaves me enough time to spend with Frankie. See you tomorrow, then!"  


"See you!"  


******  


Frankie fell asleep right after lunch, exhausted from our little adventure, his unmatchable curiosity and long-lasting energy. I used the calm moment to phone Ray and tell him about it all.  


"Gee! How was your search?"  


"Well, the search was really shitty. No one wanted to hire me because of Frank. Can you believe that shit? What the fuck do they care? They could just fire me later if I didn't fucking fulfill their expectations! But no! They have to _presuppose_!" I ranted.  


"Uh so....no luck?"  


"I GOT A FUCKING JOB!" I screamed into the speaker. Frankie didn't even move beside me.  


"Shit, Gerard! Really, that kid's contagious! Didn't you say no one wanted to hire you?"  


"Yeah, but then I tried one more place and got it!"  


"Wow, congratulations man! What's the place?"  


"I'll be in charge of the art supply section of a rather big store! Isn't it awesome? The owner is an old lady and she fucking rocks. She said I could take Frank with me whenever you can't stay with him!" I spoke non-stop. I was so excited.  


"Oops...I'd already forgotten the detail...that I have to take care of the little monster there."  


"Come on Ray, he's not a monster! He just needs some extra patience. You aren't gonna back off now, are you?"  


"No, I wouldn't do that to you. I agreed to give it a try and I will. I'll watch the kid. You start tomorrow?"  


"Yep! 8 am to 4 pm."  


"Eight hours? I have no idea what I'll do with him for such a long time!"  


"Try to arrive earlier tomorrow and we'll think about it, ok?"  


"Ok...bye Gee, and I'm very happy for you!"  


"Thanks! Oh and Ray, call Mikey and tell him, he can't always be the one spreading the news!" I laughed.  


"Don't you wanna do it yourself?"  


"Nah, he'll find a way to piss me off and I'm too happy right now."  


"Okay! Bye, Gee."  


"Bye, Ray!"  


******  


At night, Frank and I watched TV. I was trying to get used to the annoyance of having the screen practically in front of my nose. What's more, I didn't think it did my eyes any good, but Frankie protested that he couldn't see otherwise.  


All of a sudden, I felt his eyes burning holes on the side of my face. I didn't move. I sensed hot air against my right ear, then lips brushing my cheek and he pressed his face against mine. I turned and placed my hand on the back of his head, massaging. He let out a shaky sight.  


"Mmmm...l-like that. Y-yes. And...and I l-like you," he voiced, still half sighed. Afterwards, he shifted his position until he was on my lap, cuddled against my chest. His whole body was quivering and he whimpered a little.  


"H-he...he's b-bothering me. I d-don't wanna talk, p-please tell him to sh-shut up. And...and h-hold me," he pleaded, his voice muffled with my t-shirt.

I turned the TV off, tightened my arms around him and began to hum gently. He was close to falling asleep when the bell rang, making him jump.  


"Wh-what was th-that?"  


"Just the bell, don't be afraid. Stay here while I go see who it is." 

I looked through the peephole and saw the last person I expected: my mom.  


"Gerard, son! You don't know how much I've missed you! Why couldn't you wait for me yesterday after disappearing for like a week?" she cut my breath with a killer hug as soon as she crossed the door.  


"I know, sorry mom. I had really important things to do. I was going to visit you very soon, I swear."  


"Don't worry, I know what you're up to." She looked at Frank who was half asleep on the couch. "Your brother told me everything."  


"Typical Mikey style," I mumbled.  


"If it makes you feel more at ease...I don't exactly think like him. I don't think you've lost your mind, I'd have done the same. However, I _am_ worried."  


"Thanks, mom," I chuckled. "And what are you worried about? Me or...?"  


"Well, of course about you but...this kid...it's all too weird. That's why I told Mikey to call you and ask you his last name," she informed me concerned, flattening her blond dyed hair with both hands.  


"Now I understand why he didn't even tell me the reason for his message, he didn't want me to know that he had spilled it all to you," I concluded.  


"I guess, but I don't think that matters now."  


"It _does_ matter that my brother can't keep his mouth shut. Anyway, what did you want Frank's last name for?"  


"To try and find out some information," she said. 


	12. Chapter 12

_Can you hear me cry out to you?  
Words I thought I'd choke on figure out,  
I'm really not so with you anymore  
I'm just a ghost.  
So I can't hurt you anymore...  
So I can't hurt you anymore..._

I stared confusedly at my mother as I sat on the couch between her and Frankie. He barely opened his eyes and babbled something incoherent, letting his head fall on my lap.  


"Aww, Alicia was right! This boy is 'candy on two legs' -as her exact words were," mom said in a low voice touching Frank's hair.  


I smiled. "Well, though Alicia's a little silly sometimes...she's right. Frankie's sure giving me a lot of work, but he's such a sweet kid that he makes me want to help him more and more."   


"I would have never imagined you doing something like this. Anyway...don't get me wrong, I'm _very_ proud of you. That's why I wanted to help you." She kissed my cheek.  


"Thanks, mom. You telling me this means a lot to me. What is it that you wanted to find out about Frank? And...how?" I asked her, completely unaware of her recourses.

"Remember that several years ago I used to work at the reception of a public mental institution?" she began to explain.  


"Oh, yeah! I'd forgotten about that...maybe because you _hated_ that job."  


"With all my heart! That place was chaos and it wasn't my thing, I just needed the money so I endured it as much as I could. But the important fact here is that the director of the place liked me..." she continued, and I smirked.  


"He... _liked_ you?"  


"Not like that, Gerard!" he playfully slapped the back of my head.  


"Sorry, mom!"  


"He liked me because he said I was the only efficient person there. He was an idiot and a bad specialist from what I knew. But again, I needed the job so I always tried to act friendly with him." She stopped and gave me an annoyed look. " _Not_ friendly in the way you're thinking!"  


"I didn't say anything! Please, go on," I laughed.  


"When I quit he was disappointed, almost begged me to stay. He couldn't make me change my mind, but told me to call him whatever I might need. That's what I did yesterday." Her face told me that she had no good news.  


"Oh and...how could he help? Frank wasn't in that place..." I doubted.  


"No. I knew this man had access to a data base with the names of all mental patients admitted to institutions all over the country -both public and private. This is necessary to find medical records from people that are, for example, found in the streets knowing nothing more than their names. If they've been in other places before, they're on that data base," she explicated.

"Just like Frank's case," I thought aloud. "So...he looked him up for you?"  


"Yes, he was actually happy to be able to help me after all these years."  


"Oh mom, come on, that guy _really_ likes you," I mocked her.  


"No, please! He's _disgusting_!"  


"Okay, okay," I laughed, then went for the important point. "But tell me, did he find out the name of the institution where Frank was?" 

My mother looked down and took a deep breath, as if trying to find the correct words. What could the problem be? Was there something wrong with that place? Bad reputation?  


"No, Gerard. Frank's name wasn't there," she stated.  


"What? Maybe he didn't remember his last name correctly?" I guessed. 

She shook her head. "I thought of that. So I told him all I knew. Name, middle name, age, pathology, that he was in a private place and in which city you found him."  


"Frankie said his mother drove a lot before abandoning him..." I pointed out.  


"Yes, but not enough for them to have traveled through many different states," she answered. I admired her intelligence, she always thought about all the possibilities. "That reduced the search to only a small portion of the country, and there aren't that many private mental institutions in that area. He searched for people matching Frank's data and found nothing. He doesn't exist as a patient," she concluded.  


I didn't know what to say. Just when I had thought things couldn't get any more strange about this boy.

"Oh, fuck. Everything he's told me...there ain't any doubt he was in one of those places!" I raised my voice more than I intended.  


"Based on what Mikey commented, I agree with you. I don't think the kid could have made it all up," she whispered, seeing Frank move.  


"I don't think so either. The way he talks about it...it's something that he really remembers. I _could_ be wrong, but I don't think I am. Once I'm settled I'll investigate more...some way."

"Oh! With all of this I forgot to congratulate you! What a bad mother I am!" she exclaimed.  


"H-hi..." Frankie said timidly, sitting up.  


"Hi, sweety! I'm Donna, Gerard's mom. You have very pretty eyes, you know that?" she kissed his head.  


"R-really?"  


"Yes!"  


"Th-the kids didn't l-like my eyes, th-they always l-laughed. Wh-why you said you w-were a bad m-mom?" he changed the subject.  


"Because I'd forgotten to tell my son how happy I am that he found a job he likes!"  


"Y-you hug and k-kiss him like moms d-do?"  


"Yes, always, I still do even though he's not a little kid anymore."  


"Th-then you're a g-good mom. Y-yes you are," Frankie nodded expertly.  


"Well, thanks! I can hug and kiss you like a mom too, if you want."  


"Y-yes! M-my mom...I th-think didn't kn-know what things m-moms do. M-maybe she didn't w-watch much TV. Yes. Th-that. N-NO YOU SH-SHUT UP, I KN-KNOW!" he suddenly screamed, startling my mother.  


"What...? Is he ok?" she asked.  


"Not sure...sometimes someone 'speaks' in his head."  


"Y-yes he does and I h-hate it. I...t-told Puppy to s-scare him away but he w-won't! And...I...I w-wanna pee," Frank let out. My mom and I couldn't help smiling. He inspired a weird feeling; sometimes you'd laugh at the things he said and feel bad right after because frankly, it was sad to see how confused he was.  


"Let's take you to the bathroom then." I took his hand. "We'll be right back, mom. Gotta guide him 'cause he mistakes places sometimes, you know?"  


"Oh, ok."  


"Here you are. You pee and I'll wait for you outside," I told Frankie after leaving him in front of the toilet for good measure. I couple of minutes later I heard water running and soon he reappeared, observing me in a peculiar way.  


"Is there something wrong?" I asked.  


"N-nope," he replied, entwining his hands around my neck. I just stared back at him. 

He blinked many times and squinted, trying to focus. It was hard to tell what he was _exactly_ looking at, and I preferred not to try to guess; he was making me more nervous by the second.  


Frank tiptoed and his lips collided with the skin below my nose. I should have gotten away then, but I couldn't move. He giggled against my face, closed his eyes and slid his mouth down, finally finding mine and pecking at it. An inexpert, quick, sloppy kiss. Nevertheless the sweetest I had ever experienced. I didn't kiss him back but I smiled as he pulled away, taking my hand and dragging me to the living room.  


"L-let's go with y-your mom," he said, all smiles too.  


My mind was racing as I walked behind him. Should I talk to him about what he had just done? Was it wrong that I had liked it? What If I couldn't help kissing him back next time?  


"Son, what's wrong?" my mother's voice brought me back to earth.  


"Nothing...I was just thinking."  


"Sure? Is he telling the truth, Frankie?"  


"Wh-what?" he jumped, distracted.  


"Do you know why Gerard has that weird face?"  


"N-no! I...I l-like his face!" he replied. Luckily she didn't give that a second thought, just laughed.

"So mom...you're staying, aren't you? It's too late for you to go home." I joined her on the couch again while Frankie 'played with his dog' on the floor.  


"Yes. Actually, besides giving you the news -or lack of them, I came to stay and take care of Frankie tomorrow."  


"Oh, that's not necessary, Ray's coming."  


"I know, but I have the day off and thought I could give him a hand on his first day as a _babysitter._ " she insisted.  


"You're sure?"  


"Yes, don't worry. I've never taken care of a kid like Frank, but at least I have experience with children."  


"Frankie can be harder to deal with than little children, I'm afraid," I alerted her. "Apparently, he has even less notion of danger."  


"We'll be fine, you just go and keep your mind on your job," she assured me, patting my back.  


"Thank you, once again. Hey, Frankie!" I called him.  


"Wh-what?" he didn't turn his face to me.  


"You're gonna have two people taking care of you tomorrow! Donna's also staying."  


"O-okay," he muttered. 

My mother seemed confused. "Is he not too happy about it?"  


"You say because of the way he answered?"  


"Yes..."  


"Oh no, it's not that. It's usual for him to act emotionless for moments. Kinda frustrating, I know, I'm only now getting used to it. He can be all sweet and affectionate and then the next moment rather apathetic."

Proving my words true Frank got up, walked to my mother and kissed her on the cheek. She hugged and kissed the boy back.   


"It seems as if you'd known Frankie all his life."   


"Well, I spent almost three whole days with him in a car," I reminded her.  


"True!"  


******  


The following morning Ray arrived when we had finished breakfast. He wasn't a morning person and it showed on his face and his curly brown hair, which looked wilder than ever. It also demonstrated how good of a friend he was agreeing to do that for me.  


"Donna! It's been a long time!" he greeted my mother. Ray used to live across my street when we were younger and we'd gone to school together. He had moved with his family about five years ago. To be honest, being able to hang out with him again had been more of a reason to move to the same neighborhood myself than the job at the comic store.  


"Ray! Oh boy, you've changed! I see you finally accepted your hair, it suits you," she complimented him. Ray's hair was short the last time they had seen each other.  


"Yes, I did. I actually appreciate it now!" he laughed. "What are you doing here so early?"  


"Spent the night here, I'm staying to help you with your task for today."  


"Really? Oh thank you, Donna! I must confess that I've been freaking out about it. I'm not sure I can keep Frankie entertained for so many hours..." Ray wavered.  


"I'll be here, relax." my mother encouraged my nervous friend. I felt a little bad for putting such a responsibility on their shoulders, but I knew it was for a good reason.  


"Frankie, not on the backrest!" I suddenly cried out when I saw him practice alpinism on the couch.  


"B-but I can! G-gotta reach the t-top! L-look, the gnomes are w-winning and they're s-so much s-smaller than me!" he excused himself.  


"They're also a lot _lighter_ than you. You're gonna turn the couch over and get hurt. So no climbing the backrest, ok?" I failed to sound mad. It was impossible as I watched him sitting there looking all disappointed, eyes hidden behind his mess of a hair.  


"K-kay," he sulked. As soon as I turned my back on him he returned to his 'mission'.  


"Fuck..."  


Seeing my desperation, my mom lifted him off the couch, avoiding his kicks.  


"N-NO, LEMME G-GO!" he protested.  


"Ok, but I heard your dog crying. I think he's jealous that you're playing with the gnomes and not him..." she told him.  


"R-really? N-no I...I love P-puppy! Puuuuppy! P-puppy where are y-you?" he sang. "H-here you are!"  
He then sat on the floor to converse with his pet, waving his hands around and mixing the words with weird sounds. Maybe it was dog-language? Not sure.

"So, things you must remember," I announced to both my friend and mother. "never leave him unwatched. Don't contradict him when he's having hallucinations...which is most of the time actually. Act as if you were seeing what he sees, otherwise he goes mad and can get uncontrollable. Then...make sure he doesn't hit his head with his hands, against the wall, or in any other way; he has a tendency to do that when he's too messed up. Have in mind he can't see well, so reading or any other activity that requires good sight is not an option. Leave the TV where it is; I know it's not comfortable but it's the only way in which he distinguishes the images." I stopped to think. My two listeners looked scared. "What else? Uh...he likes to eat by himself, even if his hands are not steady sometimes. Might need help to hold the glass, though. He doesn't know how to handle knifes so if anything needs to be cut, do it for him. If he seems to be in his own world talking to himself, just let him be and use that moment to have a break, you'll need it." I chuckled at the last remark. "Oh and...as sweet as he looks...he can be really foulmouthed. Don't reprimand him for that, he can't help it. And don't scream, it scares him."  


"Is that all...?" Ray questioned, rubbing his temples.  


"Yes, I think it is. Mom, you already know about the bathroom thing," I added and she nodded. "If you have any problem give me a call. And for the hundredth time, thanks."  


"Gerard...go. You better be early on your first day! Frankie will be fine with us, I promise," mom whispered in my ear as she embraced me tightly.  


"Frankie, please be a good boy and obey Ray and Donna, ok?"  


"K-kay. B-but I don't w-want you to leave," he pleaded.  


"I have to, you know that. I'll be back at 4, it's not that bad! Come on, change that face and give me a hug?" I waited with open arms. 

He pondered for some seconds before holding my waist. "K-kay, but m-make 4 come soon."  


"I will, see you later Frankie." I kissed his forehead.  


"OH!" he screamed.  


"What happens?"  


"W-we didn't buy Puppy's f-food! C-can you?" he requested, looking like a lost puppy himself.  


"Of course, I won't forget, promise."

While I left the house I couldn't help thinking about how much my life had changed in only one week. I hadn't been drinking, had a new job -one I was actually happy with- and someone under my care. Someone who _depended_ on me.

I checked my clothes once again, wanting to make sure I looked presentable. Black jeans, clean sneakers and a white t-shirt. I had seen the other people working there, I knew I didn't need to dress formally. However, that didn't mean I could look scruffy. I had arranged my hair as nicely as I managed, tucked behind my ears so it wouldn't fall on my face.

Sarah welcomed me with a warm smile, which changed to a more serious gesture as she placed one of her wrinkled, long fingered hands on my arm.  


"Gerard, you're too tense! Your brother will be fine, you'll see. And I don't bite! Come with me, we'll get all the papers in order to start with," she spoke in a soothing tone. 

I chuckled and followed her behind the counter. I'd be fine too.  


******  


Ray's POV   


The door closed behind Gerard. Donna and I looked at each other and then at Frankie. He was standing where Gerard had left him, staring at the wall. I could see his lips moving but couldn't hear what he was saying.  


"Uhm...should we make him sit at least?" I wondered.  


"I don't know." Donna neared Frank, moving her hand in front of his eyes. He didn't react. 

"Is this normal?"  


"Frankie?" she grazed his arm. He shuddered, moved the hair out of his eyes and contemplated us. His pupils paced at an amazing speed, he appeared troubled. "Are you ok, baby?"  


"Y-yeah. N-no, maybe. Th-there...see? Th-they are. An-and many. Th-the floor, r-right. Here. Y-yes?" he mumbled, the question directed to Donna. I found no sense in his words. 

She took him to the couch and made him rest his head on her shoulder. "Yes Frankie, I see. What do you wanna do now?"  


"I...n-no. I d-dunno. H-head's bad now, h-hurts and s-stings and...m-mess. Y-yes...bad," he rubbed his face.

I sat down too, sighing in annoyance. I wasn't prepared for that, what had I been thinking? Well, the answer to that was clear. Gerard had been my best friend for years. He'd always trusted me as much as I trusted him. I knew him more than anyone else and therefore knew he was totally convinced that he wanted this new life he'd started. I had been so worried about him those last months that I was willing to do anything to help him get out of his self-pity. Sure, bringing home a mentally ill kid that you found in the street wasn't something exactly _usual_. You didn't hear about people doing that daily. But speaking of Gerard Way, nothing was _too weird_. He had always been one to surprise you with things you would have never expected. This last one had been the most surprising of them all, though.  


"Ray...patience, it's all you need. Frankie will be better in a moment. When this happens you just wait." Donna demonstrated that patience was, indeed, one of her best virtues. 

Frank raised his head and looked at me. "R-ray, you b-bored?" he asked softly, still a little shaky but more focused.  


"No, just sleepy, I don't usually get up this early." I yawned.  


"Ahh. W-wanna play with P-puppy?" he offered. Play with an invisible dog? Oh shit...  


"Of course we'll play," Donna said.  


"How do you play with him?" I inquired.  


"W-we can all t-take turns to t-throw this ball at him and h-he goes for it and b-brings it back," he handed me over a...nothing. 

I took 'it' anyway, trying to use my imagination. I would have to train it a lot. It'd be a long day, and just the first one out of many.  


	13. Chapter 13

_It's got what it takes,  
so tell me why can't this be love.  
Straight from my heart,  
oh, tell me why can't this be love._

Still Ray's POV

After minutes of throwing the invisible ball to the invisible dog, I actually started to enjoy it. It was kind of like being a little kid again. It reminded me of that period we all had while being young, when we'd be able to keep ourselves entertained for hours using just our imagination. Imaginary scenarios, imaginary beasts and monsters to fight against, imaginary partners. We most probably didn't really see all those things as Frank saw his dog and the ball; but we loved to imagine they were there.

I watched Frankie cast the non-existent object and wait, eventually grabbing it back from Puppy's mouth and patting his head. I counted the seconds, I studied his movements and copied him when it was my turn.  


"Good dog!" I said, handing the ball to Donna. 

Frankie clapped his hands joyfully and I began to understand Gerard; seeing this boy happy was worth the patience.  


We spent the rest of the morning hearing him talk about animals, gnomes and little people; making us interact with them in some cases. Frank was so hyperactive and enthusiast that he made you tired just by observing him.

At one point he got on the coffee table and sang 'Twinkle twinkle little star', his voice sounding even more childish than when he'd speak. Besides being rather cute, it allowed me to verify something I had read: stutterers, indeed, don't stutter when they sing.  
He then performed some honestly interesting rock and punk versions of the song. I was intrigued to know whether Frankie was actually into that kind of music and upon asking him, I was surprised to find out that he knew _many_ bands. He told us a friend from the place where he used to live owned a lot of CDs. That kid would let him listen to them sometimes and he also taught him about the bands. Frank was the most strange mix between a little kid and your regular teen.

"Do you want me to bring some of my CD's tomorrow?" I proposed.  


"Y-yeah! B-bring them. B-but not t-too loud, I d-don't like it l-loud. H-he doesn't like it e-either." he pointed at his head. "L-low, not loud."  


"I won't turn up the volume much, it's ok."  


"G-good." He seemed satisfied.  


Lunch went by without complications. Donna cooked steaks accompanied by her famous french fries. I'd almost forgotten how good they were, with that distinctive special touch only homemade food could have. Needless to say, both Frank and I approved of her food choice.  
As hungry as I was myself, I was amazed to see the boy eating. I'd always had a good appetite, there was no denying that I ate a lot; but Frankie surpassed me by far. Even experiencing some trouble to make mouth and fork meet for moments, his plate was already empty while Donna and I had still half to go. That's when he resorted to stealing fries from us.

Frank felt asleep short after that, a welcomed chance for us to relax and converse. I used to practically live in the Way's house when I was a kid and Donna was like my second mom, so this was a good opportunity to get up to date about our lives.

Once we satisfied our curiosity about each other, the subject veered to Gerard. Since Mikey visited us very often, Donna was informed of everything about her older son. It had been very hard for the poor woman to know that he was struggling through such a bad period of his life away from her. She'd called Gerard several times and offered to go see him, yet he would always refuse. Not giving up, she had tried showing up at Gerard's house without warning, but he didn't opened the door and told her to leave him alone. I was astonished, Gerard had never mentioned all that.  


It was admirable how mothers could forgive their sons no matter what. Gerard had pushed Donna away more than once and the same there she was, helping him as soon as he needed it.  


Some murmurs were heard from the couch, followed by a thud and then whimpers. We ran there and found Frankie sitting on the floor, head down and hugging his knees while sobbing. Donna sat by his side. I didn't think he had heard us approach him, and he got visible scared when she held him.  


"Shh...it's Donna, calm down. What happened? Did you fall from the couch?" she asked him.  


"Y-yes I...I th-think so. D-don't know. W-was sleeping I th-think," he hiccuped. 

I joined them on the floor, brushing the hair out of Frankie's face. "Are you hurt or something?"  


"I...I d-don't know. N-no. D-don't know." He clung to my friend's mom.  


"Anything hurts?" I insisted.  


"N-not really..."  


"I think it was just the shock because he was fast asleep when he fell." Donna smiled. "Better now, Frankie?"  


"Y-yeah." He got up and walked to the kitchen. I went after him and had to bite my hand not to scream when I saw what he was doing: peeing on one of the chairs.

"Oh my fucking God, Frankie...what did you do?" I exclaimed, unable to contain myself anymore. He fixed his clothes and watched me with big eyes. Donna had entered the room too, witnessing the occurrence with her own eyes.  


"Wh-what? Wh-why are you an-angry, Ray?" Frank frowned.  


"You know why! Look at what you did! Why didn't you tell us that you needed to go to the bathroom?" I spat. Patience had never been _my_ best virtue. There _had_ to be a way to teach Frank some things. Or...wasn't there any?  


"I...I c-can find the b-bathroom myself! D-don't scream...I...I d-didn't do anything!" he pouted. I wasn't even screaming that much.  


"Ray! Calm down, it's not such a big deal!" Donna stopped me and spoke in my ear. "He doesn't realise that he's doing it in the wrong place, so there's no point in arguing, you just scare him. Watch him for a while, I'll clean here."

"Frankie?" I semi-crouched to be at eye-level with the much shorter boy.  


"S-swear I didn't do an-anything bad. J-just...just w-went to pee."  


"I know..." I whispered, feeling terribly guilty.  


"B-but you said..."  


"Forget about what I said. Sorry kid...I'm not mad, I promise. Friends?"  


"Y-yes, friends," he nodded.  


"Wanna play something?"  


"Y-YES! H-HORSE RIDE!" Frankie shouted, jumping on my back and kicking my legs not exactly gently. Maybe it was his disguised revenge against me for yelling at him, in which case I deserved it. 

The presumed punishment consisted in carrying him all around the house -this including several more kicks and hair-tugs- while hearing Donna's laughter. I ended up exhausted, with a sharp back pain.  


Later, just when we had managed to make Frank stay still and thought he'd watch TV for a while, he found a new activity. Donna was sweeping the floor and I'd closed my eyes for a while when she shouted.  


"RAY! Get him out of there!"  


"What?" I mumbled, looking around. Frank was climbing the shelving, and it was shaking dangerously. "Oh, fuck"  


"I c-can, see?" he told someone who wasn't us.  


"Let go, it's gonna fall down!" I commanded. I had him by the waist, but he still gripped a shelf with both hands.  


"N-NO! TH-THE MONKEYS W-WANT ME TO C-CLIMB LIKE THEM!"  


"Tell them you're a person, not a monkey. Come on, let go of the shelf."  


"N-NO! Th-they'll say I s-suck at this!"  


"If you let go I'll make you chocolate milk," I tried to convince him.  


"Mmm...k-kay, but you m-make one for P-puppy too," he agreed, finally allowing me to put him down.  


"Deal."

"M-monkeys...you k-keep on playing. I g-got bored. G-gonna go for m-milk!" he announced to his 'friends'. And there I was, preparing an extra glass of milk.  


By the time I heard Gerard's keys in the lock I was about to fall asleep. Donna was sitting in front of the fan, drained. Frankie was apparently talking to his own reflex on the glass doors of the TV table.

Gerard's POV

As soon as I put a foot inside my house I was attacked by Frankie. He jumped, grabbed my neck and surrounded my waist with his legs.  


"H-HELLO!" he said, true to his style. He looked straight at the lower part of my face, and something told me to quickly turn it to one side. Wise move. His decided kiss landed on my cheek.  


"Hi, Frankie!" I kissed him in the same way and left him on the couch. He seemed upset.

It worried me to think that he might have taken my avoidance as rejection, but I couldn't allow him to kiss my mouth in front my mother and my friend. They would surely disapprove, at least her. They'd object that I let that happen and would never believe that it had always been Frankie who tried to seduce me. They could think I had done something to provoke him and then see me as a monster.  
Or maybe I was just exaggerating and prejudging, but I wasn't willing to take the risk yet. I hadn't even decided myself what I'd do about Frank's insinuations and affective onslaughts.

"How was your day with Ray and Donna?" I tried to get Frankie's mind out of his fruitless try. He appeared livened by my interest.  


"G-good! We h-had fun! R-ray got angry and...and he sh-shouted at me. B-but then he s-said he w-was sorry and we're f-friends again. Y-yeah. And...and Donna m-made us fries and were y-yummy!" he related. Only then I glanced at the other two people in the room and noticed the state in which they were.  


"Oh my, you two look awful! Was it _that_ bad? And why did you get angry, Ray?" I asked them, sitting on the coffee table. I thought it would be better not to get too close to Frank for a while.  


"Well...let's say it was _tiring_. The kid has a lot of energy. He's like...the Duracell bunny or something!" Ray remarked. Frankie got into a fit if laughter at that. "And it's not that I got angry, I didn't even scream, I just spoke a little louder because the situation momentarily exceeded me."  


"Ray's a little dramatic, right Frankie?" my mother addressed the youngest of us.  


"Y-yeah...h-he always gets n-nervous and it's f-funny!" he said, still laughing.  


"But what happened?" I inquired again.  


"Uh...your little friend had a little 'accident' on one of the chairs," he answered.  


"You mean...he...'watered it'? Or...something worse?" I hoped it was the first.  


"Nah, just...liquid." my mom relieved me. "Why? Has he ever done something more in the wrong place?"  


"No, no. Never so far, and I hope he never will!" I told her. The only thought placed a disgusting image in my mind.

"Wh-what you t-talking 'bout? I d-didn't do anything to the ch-chair..." Frankie got into the conversation.  


"I was just telling Gerard how I poured water on it by accident, don't worry," Mom lied.  


"So besides that...everything ok?"  


"Yeah, I guess. He gave us a show, introduced us to his little friends, made us play with Puppy and tried to climb the shelving. That's all," Ray enumerated.  


"Th-the monkeys t-told me to!" Frank jumped to his own defense.  


"I'll have a talk with those monkeys..." I said. "You look in pain, Ray...what the..."  


"Horse ride," he stated, and now it was my mother who started to laugh. "Yeah, laugh...it wasn't _you_ who carried him and got the kicks!"  


"It was funny, though." More laughs. The three of us were a choir of laughter and finally even Ray joined us.  


"G-gee! D-did you b-buy food for P-puppy?" Frank had a good memory. Good that I hadn't forgotten this time.  


"Yes. I bought him food and also a dog plate, like it?" I showed him the round, purple article.  


"Yay! Th-that's my f-favorite color!" he cheered.  


"Really? It was just a guess!"  


"I...I'm g-gonna feed him," he snatched the things from my hand.  


"Wait, I'll open the bag for you."  


"I c-can!"  


"It's too thick to open with your hands."  


"G-gimme scis-sors then?"  


"No, Frankie. No scissors for you," I said firmly, pointing at his now discovered wrist where the carved 'i' was just beginning to heal. "Stay here."  


"K-kay."

I took the bag with me to the kitchen, where I kept the cutlery hidden in a high enough place over the cupboard. It was actually hard _for me_ to reach it when standing on a chair.  
On my way home I had come up with the idea of emptying the plate when Frank wasn't looking and putting the dog food in another bag to 'reuse it' later. That way he wouldn't worry about his pet not wanting to eat. I'd have to be quick and sneaky, though.

Going back to the living room, I let Frankie serve the food. As expected, half of it ended up on the floor.  


"Do you mind staying twenty more minutes with him so I can take a shower?" I asked my mother and Ray. So far I had never left Frank alone for more than five minutes, and one of those times I'd caught him trying to get into the fridge. He said it was too hot.  


"Not at all. Oh, and how was your first day? You didn't tell us!" mom wanted to know. Frank's actions when I arrived had inclusively made me forget about my debut at my new job. He was messing with my thoughts.  


"It was pretty good. Of course some customers are annoying, that happens everywhere, but I was able to solve all of their doubts. My boss was happy with me...and I'm truly proud of myself for once."  


"You should!" Ray enthused.  


"The only drawback is that I have to be standing for hours. But this job is better than I could have dreamed and found it so fast that I'd be an ungrateful idiot if I complained."  


"You're right son, you've been really lucky! You better enjoy this job...and keep it," my mother advised.  


"I will, trust me."  


When Ray and my mom left I let myself fall on the couch, wishing to make up for the time I had been on my feet. Frankie was playing with some office sheets I had brought him, folding them in different ways. However, as soon as he saw me there, he got up and came to sit on my lap, hugging me. It'd become a habit. A dangerous, uncomfortable habit. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like to have him so close to me. I did, even if it was summer and his presence added more to the heat. I just couldn't decide if it was right to feel that way.

Not helping my situation, he got even closer -if that was possible- and started to kiss me. Little butterfly kisses all over my face. I shivered, in spite of the warm climate.  


"Frankie...what are you doing?"  


"G-giving you k-kisses," he responded and continued to.  


"I...I know but...this is...you shouldn't..." I rambled. I wasn't able to find the words, I didn't know how to tell him to stop. I didn't want him to stop. I had to... "Frankie, stop..."  


He stared at me sadly, disappointed. "W-why?"  


"I...I have to take care of you. I can't...you're a kid, Frankie," I searched for an excuse. I didn't think he could understand the truth.  


"N-not a kid! NO! I...I'm 18...I'm b-big! N-not a little k-kid, no," Frank whimpered. He was breaking my heart and I might be breaking his.  


"I know but...you can't do those things, kiss me like that. Some people could get angry at me if I let you."

"Oh...k-kay..." he said defeated, though I saw it on his face that he couldn't comprehend. Then he pronounced the words I'd been praying not to hear. "B-but I...l-love you, Gee..."  


Those last words shook my world just like his small body was shaking against mine. Those words that he had surely heard so many times on TV had found their way into his reality. I couldn't help the tears that rolled down my cheeks, and the sadness in those innocent, restless, hazel eyes pierced me.  


"Frankie..." I attempted to speak. Was the boy aware of what he was saying? Did he feel that for real? Had he meant it in _that_ way?  


It wasn't over. He talked again, caressing my face with unsure fingers. "Y-you don't l-love me?" 


	14. Chapter 14

_Well, I must have come to that crazy age  
where everything is hot,  
'cause I don't know if the things I'm thinking  
are normal thoughts or not._

I felt as if my heart was being squeezed, I couldn't breathe. The last thing I wanted was to make Frankie suffer, but what if he was just confused? What if he was only very thankful that I had taken him in, that I had cared? What if his poor head was mistaking admiration or gratefulness for love? What if...he _wasn't_?

He kept looking at me through a veil of tears. Since I didn't answer right away, he withdrew his hands and diverted his eyes like a scolded child. I couldn't stand it, I couldn't be so cruel to him; specially when _answering 'no'_ would mean lying and not the other way round.  


"Frankie, I do love you...."  


"Y-you do? C-can we be b-boyfriends, then?" he didn't let me finish, eyes shining. I was about to extinguish that light again. What he wanted couldn't be. Not yet, _if ever_. I first needed to know how his mind worked under control, see if he would still feel the same way towards me after being medicated.  


"No Frankie, we can't be boyfriends."  


"B-but why? I...I l-love you and you l-love me and the g-gnomes like you and also th-the little p-people and P-puppy! Th-they say we sh-should be boyfriends! See? N-now they're an-angry!" he simplified, seemingly nervous. He got off my lap and lied down on the floor, conversing with his friends in a very low voice and gesturing exaggeratedly.

"Frankie..." I called him. I didn't want to leave things like that.  


"Y-you'll say yes? Oh! One...one of th-the gnomes kicked you g-good, d-did he?" he applauded.  


"No...I _can't_ say yes. Frankie...it's too soon! We've only known each other for less than a week. I know that we've been together all the time so it feels like a lot more, but it's _still_ too soon, do you understand?"  


"N-nope. Y-you said you l-love me!" he insisted. I knew it wouldn't be easy. Maybe I shouldn't have said that, but I couldn't force myself to lie. Even though I may not be _in love_ with Frank -yet, I did feel that I already loved that sweet kid.  


"I do love you, but we're just knowing each other. Right now I only want to take care of you, you need to get better first." I tried to run my hand through his hair, but he shunned me.  


"I...I'm f-fine!" he crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. The nervous tic that made him jerk his head was showing more frequently.  


"You know you still need to see a doctor so you can start taking your medication again."  


"I D-DON'T WANT TO!" he screamed. I'd thought he did want his meds. Hopefully he was just momentarily mad at me or else it'd mean more trouble awaiting.  


"Frankie..."  


"N-NO! Y-YOU'RE MEAN! Y-YOU DON'T LIKE M-ME 'CAUSE...'CAUSE I'M S-SPECIAL, RIGHT? Yeah...an-another kid told me w-we were th-there 'cause n-nobody liked us," he cut me off again. 

I felt like the worst piece of shit even if I had no way meant that. My inability to explain things better and simpler had taken him to misunderstand me. It was my fault.  


"That's not true. People who...are special, sometimes live in institutions to be taken care of when their families can't. They're safer there."  


"D-don't care, you don't l-like me," he sniffed.  


"I do like you, stop that! I like you even more because you're special, actually! 'Normal' is boring, you know?" noticing that he'd stopped crying and I had his attention, I decided to go for the truth, praying that he'd understand some of it. "But...some people would not like us being boyfriends."  


"Wh-why?"  


"It's hard to explain...they'd say it's not ok because I'm not like you. Someone could want to take you away from me, I don't want that..."

Frankie froze when I said that. He crawled to me and hugged my legs. "N-NO! P-PLEASE PLEASE P-PLEASE I WANNA S-STAY HERE PLEASE!"  


"Shh...calm down, come here." I made him sit next to me, my arm around his shoulders. "You'll stay here, I _want_ you to stay here with me. But you need to help me, you have to remember some things."  


"K-kay," he whispered.  


"You must _not_ tell me 'I love you' or kiss me on the mouth in front of other people, not even in front of Donna or Ray. Ok?" I instructed him. Honestly, I didn't think it possible for him to remember that and comply. I could still hope, though.  


"Y-yeah," he answered shortly. I was expecting him to ask whether he could do it when we were alone; I was glad that he didn't. As much as I couldn't deny that his words had gotten to the bottom of my heart and I wanted him to kiss me again, to officially give him permission would confuse him more and make things harder for me.  


"Good."  


"And...c-can I hug you and k-kiss you on the ch-cheek?" he questioned with such a serious face that it made me smile.  


"Yes, that's fine."  


"Ev-even in front of p-people?"  


"Yes, nothing wrong with that."  


Frank was silent for some seconds, deeply thinking about something or maybe trying to comprehend. "Th-then...we're n-not boyfriends?" he played with his hair, still a little bit disheartened. At that moment I wished I could just tell him 'yes, we are', but life wasn't so simple.  


"No, we're not. But I need you to know that I love you the same and I'll always care for you and..."  


"Y-you don't like b-boys?" he asked worried. If he had only known what his innocent question did to me, the memories it brought back, the conflict it caused in my mind.  


"I...I don't know. I like _you_."  


He smiled widely. I felt satisfied with that achievement until he frowned and hit his head. "SH-SHUT UP! G-gerard loves me! And...and h-he lets me h-hug him and k-kiss him and we h-hold hands!"  


I grabbed his wrist to stop him from hurting himself and, nearing my mouth to his head, I spoke. "Listen you, inside there: you better leave Frankie alone and shut up or I'll kick your fucking ass!"  


Frank stared at me with his mouth hanging open. "Wow, y-you scared h-him!"  


"Yeah?"  


"Y-yep! I...I guess h-he'll be back but n-now he left."  


"Good that I could help you get rid of him for a while," I said. I didn't know how much of our talk he'd assimilated, nut things seemed to be currently better at least.  


******  


Days went by slower than I would have liked. Ray was having some hard times with Frankie, but he'd said the balance was positive: he was exercising not only his imagination but also his patience. He was proud that he had found in his CD collection that he'd bring everyday a way to keep Frankie quiet for a while. Even though the kid had demonstrated to be more into punk by influence of that friend from the institution, he appeared to enjoy any kind of rock music -like Iron Maiden's old-school metal. Sometimes both Ray and I would have fun seeing Frank play imaginary instruments or sing along to the songs. He learned the lyrics pretty fast. However, if the volume was a single point over what was bearable for him -which was hard to control since not all CDs were recorded at the same volume- the kid would flip out. He'd cover his ears and start rocking back and forth screaming 'stop it!', needing total silence after that.  


Frankie appeared to be getting farther and farther away from reality. In very truth, the moments when he was coherent were short and a few. Leaving him alone for just five minutes to go to the bathroom had become a real problem. When coming out I'd find him climbing furniture, hitting his head against the wall -he had always some bruise on his forehead, or getting things out of the fridge...just to name some of his activities. Other times I'd have to get out in a rush because he was screaming about bugs or animals attacking him.

To get him to have a whole meal without interruptions had also turned into a complicated task lately. Sometimes he was too hyper; he'd use the food as projectiles or stand on the chair to sing instead of eating. In other opportunities he'd completely space out and we had to feed him -that if he opened his mouth at all. The rest of times he'd bluntly refuse to eat.

My mom kept on coming to help me as often as she could, sometimes staying for the night. Nights...another tough subject. During many it was impossible to sleep; Frankie would constantly wake up scared or extremely nervous and couldn't fall asleep again. He would then speak nonsense for hours. Other nights he was just too overexcited to sleep.

I'd found out that a way to calm him down was to read books to him. Searching my old room, my mother had located some from when Mikey and I were pre-teens. They proved to be the right ones for Frankie, since he couldn't understand adult books and would get bored. Anyhow, he never kept his attention on the same activity for more than fifteen minutes. If he got to twenty, you could consider it a miracle.

About Frank's kisses, sexy insinuations and love declarations...they went on. I did my best to not react in a way I could regret later each time something like that happened. We had gotten pretty close though, and one day I called him 'baby' without thinking. Frank liked it and somehow it stuck. I began to use it regularly, taking care of avoiding it while others were present. I was getting slightly paranoid about some things.

I had caught Frank touching himself again a couple of times and also had Ray -who had been rather grossed out. He always did it through his jeans and seemed oblivious to it same as to my presence while it'd last. I'd never dared tell him anything about it, I had no idea how to approach those kind of conversations.

Work had been going fine. Sometimes it was a little tiring but I didn't mind because I truly enjoyed it. Sarah treated me so well that most of the time I forgot that she was my boss. She had gotten me a door mobile for Frankie, as she had promised. It had purple and pink transparent beads and had helped keep the boy entertained for several minutes at least during the first days. I wasn't exactly amused with having to hear that annoying noise, yet I put up with it.

Among all the good and bad -or more like worrying- things going on in my life, I had two big problems at the top of my list. One, that I knew I wouldn't get my paycheck soon enough. The other one was this enigma called Frank Iero. He was surrounded by a mystery that I was determined to solve. And not only out of curiosity, also because I wanted to know if he had any other family besides his bitch of a mother.  
I'd been trying to find a way to get information about him without having to reveal much. I was afraid of people learning that I had found Frankie and kept him just like that, but I needed to know if the police or whoever was in charge of those things had some of the data that was missing in his ID; maybe addresses or family names that could help. I had asked several people -only the ones I knew I could trust- but so far I hadn't come up with any safe and useful plan.

The current overwhelming situations in my life had caused me to wish for a drink more than once. I remembered how it used to help me relax and forget all my problems. It was tempting, no doubt it was. I had refrained myself so far, for Frank. How long would I resist?  


******  


I'd been working at the store for two weeks when my friend Bob Bryar visited me a little before my day was over. I used to work at the same comic shop where Bob _still_ worked. He was three years younger than me, with shortish blond hair and a heavy build. Not fat, just strong; the kind of guy that looked like he could knock you out with no effort. However, his light blue eyes and scant sandy beard gave away a hint of his true nice personality. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

We decided to go for a walk and talk. Bob was yet another person who knew everything that had been happening in my life thanks to Mikey. They had met when Bob and I still worked together and my brother would drop by to kill time.  


"You know Gerard, I've been trying to find someone with enough 'contacts' to get the information you need about that boy," he commented chewing on his lip ring.  


"And how are you doing so far?" I asked anxiously.  


"I got nothing," he shook his head. "but I'm waiting for an ex mate from school to call me. Maybe he was luckier."  


"Oh, but Bob...are you sure you can trust this person? You know that the fewer people who know about Frankie the better."  


"He's totally trustable, relax! It isn't him who might get the information anyway, but a friend of his," he explained. "None of them will rat you out, don't worry."  


"So...a friend of your friend?" I chuckled.  


"Actually...the brother of a friend of my friend," he detailed. We both laughed then but, jokes aside, that didn't sound too convenient.  


"Bob...you _sure_ it's safe?"  


"Stop worrying, man!" he threw his hands in the air.  


"Well, I _am_ worried!"  


"Wow Gerard, you've changed, you're all responsible now! I still can't believe you took that boy to your house. Besides the fact that he has mental problems, aren't you too young to be the father of a teen?" he joked.  


"Oh, shut the fuck up! I'm not playing father! Maybe you could say I...adopted another little brother." I mentally laughed at my answer. _Yeah, sure._  


"Hey G-man, what about we go for some beers like in the old times?"

His invitation got me off guard and I gasped. "I uh...I don't drink anymore, Bob," I excused myself.  


"Oh, come on! Just a couple of drinks, I'm not telling you to get drunk!" he insisted. 

I'd never been into the 'night world' until I met Bob, he'd been who introduced me to it. I had just broken up with my first and only love -who had deeply disappointed me, so anything that could help me forget was welcomed at that point. Then it became a ritual to go drinking at least three days a week. Bob was a good guy and friend, he just loved to party too much. It wasn't even that we'd get wasted together, he never drank as much as I did. I guess I was prone to let my drinking get out of hand.  


"Bob...it's 4 in the afternoon and as I said, I'm not drinking anymore. You know where alcohol led me, I lost my fucking job because of it!" I made a point.  


"Let me tell you that was rather funny," he laughed. I didn't.  


"It wasn't funny, it was sad. It's a _no_ , Bob. Sorry." My own will power surprised me. He knew that I was being serious and quit the insistence.

****  


That same will power seemed to betray me once I left Bob and headed home. He had brought back the memories and with them my craving. I was about to walk out of a shop after buying a pack of cookies when an inner force that I couldn't fight guided my steps back in and to the alcohol section. My right hand got hold of a bottle of whiskey.  


"Just in case...I will probably throw it away," I said to myself.

I counted my money. My mother had been lending me some to buy food. What's more, I had gotten a tip from a customer that day. It wasn't usual at that place but she had insisted, sliding the money into my back pocket. According to one of my partners, the brunette girl only wanted to touch my ass.  


I paid for the things and hid the bottle at the bottom of my bag, under some papers.  


Upon entering the house, I found it strange that I wasn't welcomed by Frank's effusiveness. I couldn't even see him at first sight.  


"Hey Ray! Where's Frankie?" I questioned, placing my bag over the coffee table. 

He pointed with his head to the other side of the room, behind the couch. "He's been pretty quiet all day. He barely spoke, didn't seem to notice me most of time and practically didn't eat. Is he sick or something?" Ray asked worried. Frank was in a corner of the living room, sitting on the floor with his forehead against the wall.  


"Uh...not that I know. I think it's because he didn't sleep well these last nights, the lack of rest doesn't help him at all." I neared the self-isolated boy.  


"He's been there for about an hour. Every time I tried to make him get up he just screamed and pushed me away," Ray added.  


I crouched next to Frankie and saw his lips were moving, but no sound was coming out of them. I got closer to his face to make sure that he saw me first so I wouldn't scare him.  


"Frankie?" I called softly. He didn't respond.  


I lowered my voice and tried again. "Baby it's me, Gerard..."  


He slowly turned to me without detaching himself from the wall. "G-gee?" he whispered. His eyes were still, but he looked completely lost and tired.  


"Yes, I'm here. Come with me?" I extended my arms towards him and he clung to my neck. When I tried to get him to stand, though, he wouldn't cooperate. I finally picked him up and carried him to the couch, sitting down with him on my lap.

"How is he?" Ray questioned.  


"Not sure," I doubted, analyzing Frank's null expression. "Frankie...you feel ok, kid?"  


"Y-yeah. F-fine, yes." He leaned his back on my chest.  


"Ray, would you hand me the pack of cookies that's inside my bag? It's on top of it all," I requested.  


"Sure, here you are," he complied. I was glad to have hidden my bottled temptation well enough. 

I opened the packet and placed it on Frank's legs. "Your favorite, vanilla cookies."  


"G-good." He took one hesitatingly and began to nip at it. The time it took him to finish one single cookie was disconcerting, even more if you compared it to how quickly he'd eat the first days. He seemed to cheer up a little after that and continued to eat at a more normal pace. I caressed his hair, watching the cookie crumbs fall on his lap.  


"One can see how important you are to him," Ray suddenly noted.  


"I know, sometimes that scares me a little bit."

I spent the whole afternoon cuddling with Frankie on the couch. As tired as he was, he never fell completely asleep. He shifted, trembled and whimpered. He looked irritated and extremely deadbeat.  


My attempts to make him eat dinner were futile, so I took him to bed and read him a story. Someone should have been there to take a picture of my happy face when after three days, I finally heard him snore gently.  


Frank might have been fast asleep, but I had something else in mind that didn't let _me_ go to sleep. I made my way to the kitchen, retrieving a whiskey glass from the cupboard and setting my ass heavily on a chair. My bag was lying on the table, teasingly waiting for me to dig inside. I did so, resting the bottle in front of me, running my fingers along the label.  


"Just to help me relax and sleep. Only for tonight," I encouraged myself. 

I filled the glass to the middle, drinking the liquid rapidly as if that could help me pretend it hadn't happened. I felt it burn my throat while it made its way down my body. I got light headed. I poured a little more into the glass, making it disappear as soon as before. My eyelids went heavy, I started to feel sleepy.  


In a sudden assault of guilt I got up with the bottle in my hand, stumbling. Lucid enough to remember not to make any noise, I steadied my steps and followed the wall to the bedroom, where I stuffed the bottle at the back of the closet. I then proceeded to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, discarded my jeans, and slid into the bed.

Frankie mumbled and opened his eyes. "H-hi."  


"Shh...you gotta sleep," I slurred. 

He moved closer, _too_ close. My reflexes weren't at their best. Before I was able to think about the situation, Frank's lips were on mine; timidly as always, but lingering on a little more. Enough for me to kiss him back just as softly, not more than a peck.  


I would have been conscious of my possible error right away if I hadn't been a little drunk. I would have regretted it if I hadn't seen Frankie's beautiful smile as soon as our lips separated. He didn't say anything, only smiled. Afterwards he snuggled next to me and closed his eyes again.

It was good that I was lying down, because my head was spinning badly. Sleep came to me swiftly.


	15. Chapter 15

_Build my fear of what's out there  
and cannot breathe the open air.  
Whisper things into my brain  
assuring me that I'm insane_

A persistent and strident sound reached my ears and pulled me out of my slumber. I instinctively hit the alarm clock with my palm, but that didn't stop the torturing noise. It took me a while to figure out the source of it; it was the doorbell. I glanced at the numbers shining over the nightstand-wanna-be chair: 8:03 AM.  


"OH SHIT! OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT..." I screamed over and over again. I had to be quick or I'd be late to work. Even though Sarah had said it was okay as long as I was there before 9, I always tried to arrive as early as possible. She'd been so nice that I felt in doubt.  


Suddenly, I realised that I was being too loud. I was supposed to let Frankie sleep as much as he wanted, he needed it after days of hardly doing it.  


Afraid of having woken him up, I took a look at the bed. "OH SHIT, MOTHERFUCKER! GERARD, YOU'RE A DAMN IRRESPONSIBLE DRUNK BITCH!" I insulted myself. Frank was _not_ there. I had fucked up again, badly, stupidly. I _knew_ alcohol made me sleep a lot.  


"GERARD! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" another voice -that wasn't mine- was bitching at me too, accompanied by urgent knocks on the door.  


"Oh damn, Ray!" I finally reacted, running there.  


I unlocked the door and left to go search for Frank without even waiting for Ray to get in.  


"Gerard! What...?"  


"Sorry Ray! I overslept and now I have no idea where Frankie is!" I explained from the distance.  


"Calm down Gerard, this house's not that big, he can't have gone too far!" he caught up with me.  


"It's not about where he might be, the problem is what he could be _doing_ right now," I told him while checking the kitchen. When I opened the fridge, I gained a weird look from my friend. "He's always trying to get into...what if he managed to?"  


"He wouldn't fit..."  


"Uh yeah, you're right."  


It was then that we perceived a familiar sound and stopped to listen better. "Isn't that..."  


"...splashes! The bathroom!" I completed Ray's phrase.

The door was only semi closed, so he didn't hear us enter. The big, white bathtub was filled almost to the top. I guessed the water was cold, since there was no steam. Frankie was standing in the middle, stirring the water with his hands and dancing to the rhythm of whichever music was playing inside of his head -something that happened often. He hadn't taken off his boxers or the long t-shirt he slept in. Just when I was about to get nearer, he slid and lost his balance.  


"Frankie!" I shouted, watching him fall but unable to move. I saw Ray rush to him, too late to stop him from falling on his ass inside the water, but fast enough to intercept his head before it hit the hard border. Water jumped in all directions, getting both Ray and me wet in the process. Good that it was summer.  


"Oh God, Frankie! What are you doing here alone? Why didn't you wake me up?" I hugged him as I took him out of the bathtub.  


"I...I w-wanted to come s-swim in...in the l-lake," he said, attempting to get back in.  


"That's not a lake, it's just the bathtub."  


"N-no it's not," he replied.  


"You filled it with water yourself, don't you remember? You don't fill a lake..." Ray helped me.  


"N-no you don't!" Frank giggled. "I d-didn't fill the l-lake, it...it w-was like this when I c-came."  


"Ok, then. Ray...would you take care of him and help him get dry and dressed? I need to get ready to leave, now," I pleaded.  


"Sure. Come on, Frankie," Ray guided the boy outside of the bathroom with a towel over his shoulders.  


While I walked behind them, I couldn't help but stare at Frank's small but well shaped ass, the wet t-shirt making it stick out. This caused me to shake my head and slap myself mentally as I headed for my room. How could I be having those kind of thoughts after what had just happened? Frankie could have hit his head and died! And...how had I been so weak? Why the fuck had I drank when I knew so well that it was a bad idea?

All of a sudden, the memories of what had occurred before I felt asleep came back to me. "Oh damn, I kissed him. I fucking _kissed the boy_!"  


Although it hadn't been anything big, it could still confuse Frank; all because of the damn whiskey. It's not that I wouldn't have wanted to do it otherwise, the temptation had been always present. However, I'd have been more...rational if sober.  


After getting dressed as fast as I could, I got the bottle out of the closet and quickly threw it into my bag when Ray and Frank entered the room. Lost in my thoughts as I was, I didn't even look at them when I passed them by on my way to the bathroom. The wet floor was an extra obstacle in my race against time, forcing me to watch my steps to avoid an obviously unwanted fall while performing my usual speedy routine. 

No matter my efforts, the mocking clock in the kitchen let me know there was no time for breakfast; a glass of orange juice on the spot would have to do. Finally, I searched for the problematic bottle and, without giving myself the change to think twice, emptied it into the sink.  


"What are you doing? What's that smell?" Ray startled me.  


"N-nothing I...I was washing my hands and don't smell anything...what do you mean?" I dissimulated, tossing the evidence behind my back into the trashcan. Ray frowned and pushed me out of the way to look inside said plastic container.  


" _This_ nothing?" he pointed at the object I'd just discarded. I had been caught, I was in _big_ trouble. What if Ray told my family? What would happen with Frankie?  


"I...it was only once, last night. I didn't drink much and today I regretted it, really. It just went down the drain! I threw it away!" I apologized desperately. "I'm sorry, Ray."  


"You don't have to tell _me_ you're sorry. You need to convince _yourself_ of that. You need to ask yourself if you can quit this shit without help."  


"I can! I'll never ruin it again, I swear!" I cried out.  


"Don't swear. Just...try to be stronger, you're not alone now, remember? You assumed a huge responsibility with Frank. Are you really prepared?"  


"Yes. Yes, I am prepared. I can do this. I know I can, Ray. Please, don't tell my family about...this..."  


"I won't this time," he sighed, hugging me. "But please, ask for help if you think you can't make it."  


"I will, I promise. Now I better leave, it's almost 9! Where's Frankie, by the way?" I questioned.  


"He had some...business in the bathroom. You don't expect me to stay inside with him, do you?" he smiled.  


"No," I laughed nervously. "you do enough! Bye, Ray!"  


"Bye Gee, have a good day!"  


******  


All the way to the store I encouraged myself, repeating some words like a command: "Gerard, you _must_ do it. For you and for Frank you _must_ do it."  


It wouldn't be easy though, now that I had tasted alcohol again. I'd been too naive to think I could leave it behind so easily. Sure, I hadn't been a drinker for so long, and the occasions in which I drank for several days in a row hadn't been many. Nonetheless it was evident that alcohol attracted me too much. Those last three weeks I'd been so busy that I hadn't had time to think about drinking. Yet, the desire was bound to come back sooner or later. I had already surrendered to it once, I knew it was possible for it to happen again. I'd have to try and be stronger next time.  


******   


Frankie had been sulky all day. Ray told me he had screamed at him a lot and argued about everything. He greeted me normally this time when I arrived home, though; and things went alright until I tried to simply converse with him. Nothing I said, answered or commented seemed to be right from his point of view that day. Every word coming out of my mouth would make him angry, so I chose not to speak unless it was strictly necessary.  


Luckily -and surprisingly- he ate most of his dinner in spite of all. I didn't think eating mashed potatoes with his fingers was the best idea, but I let him do as he pleased.  


"Frankie wash your hands and face, you're all covered in food," I told him whilst cleaning the table.  


"D-don't want to, F-FUCK YOU!" He stabbed the tablecloth with the fork he hadn't bothered using for what it really was.  


I took the fork out of his hands. "Please, Frankie...you can't touch things with your hands like that, go and wash them?"  

He gave me a hateful look and it hurt. It hurt _so_ much when he'd act like that. I knew he didn't intend to. I was sure that he didn't hate me and was just confused, lacking control of his actions; but that didn't make it any better. I missed the sweet Frankie.  


"I...I D-DON'T FUCKING W-WANT TO! S-STOP! AND...AND YOU S-STOP TOO...AND...AND ALL OF Y-YOU. F-FUCK! TH-THE ELEPHANTS W-WILL CRUSH YOU ALL!" he shouted as loud as his lungs allowed, crashing his forehead on the table in front of him. The sound it made stunned me, yet he seemed to be fine. He got up, kicking the chair. 

I took him by both arms and forced him to the sink.  


"F-FUCKING SON OF A B-BITCH LEMME G-GO!"  


"Frankie, _please_ stop. I don't want to do anything bad to you, I'm just gonna get you clean. You don't need to say these things, you know how I care about you." I tried to calm him down. 

Frank didn't answer and instead used his energy to fight me. I put his hands under the faucet, holding them tightly. It was pointless to even try to use soap, he was applying a strong resistance. I also got a bite on my hand when I tried to clean his face. He was _impossible_. I released him and he walked out of the kitchen looking furious, incensed.  


"Where are you going?" I asked him.  


"T-to do stuff."  


"But...where?"  


"L-leave me al-alone! C-come on P-puppy, he d-doesn't want us.," he called his dog and went into the bedroom.  


"Frankie...I still have things to do. Why don't you go watch TV or any other thing in a place where I can see you? I _do_ want you both near me." I followed him.  


"D-do not w-want. G-GO AWAY!" he yelled again. Something was seriously wrong. He had been in a bad mood before, but never like this. There was something abnormal in the way he moved, in his eyes.  


"Come on, kid, listen...I can leave whatever needs to be done for tomorrow. Instead we go to the couch and I'll read you and Puppy a story. What do you say?" I offered. When I tried to hug him he pushed me away really hard, sending me against the semi opened bedroom door which got shut under my weight. 

I looked at him in disbelief, a sharp pain in my back. He seemed worried for an instant and I thought he had took conscience of what he did. But then he threw his hair back in an annoyed manner, his features hardening. He walked to the bed and began to pull at the quilting, sheets and pillows getting them off the mattress and sending them flying across the room, aiming for the spot where I was stood.  


"D-DON'T WANT YOU TO R-READ ME AN-ANYTHING! I...I D-DON'T WANT ANY-THING. D-DON'T! N-NO! SH-SHUT UP EV-EVERYBODY AND L-LEAVE ME ALONE. S-SILENCE!" Frankie exploded. His face was red with anger, his voice was harsh and his eyes moved quicker than I had ever seen them do it. He was shaking from head to toes and I didn't know how he was still on his feet. 

I was afraid, Frankie was truly frightening me for the first time. He looked possessed.  


"Ok, ok! Then come here and we'll stay in silence, just resting, no sound." I walked towards the despoiled mattress.

"B-back off," he uttered through his teeth, shoving me once again and making me land on the floor. 

Ignoring the pain traveling from my ass to my neck, I got up and tried to hold him from behind, wrapping my arms around his and locking them on his chest.  


"Arggg F-FUCKER!" he moved forward dragging me with him. His strength was amazing, unbelievable for such a small boy. Struggling, he managed to get his right arm free, and I saw him grab the glass lamp from the chair. An easy tug was enough to unplug it. Raising it over his head, he twisted within my grip. The dolorous realization landed on me heavy as an anvil: Frank was trying to hit me with the lamp. My sweet angel wanted to hurt me.

I let go of his body and grasped the hand that was holding the improvised weapon. In that moment I didn't think of me, I _couldn't_ think of me. Besides the sadness that seeing the violent side of Frank caused me, I wasn't afraid of being physically hurt by him. I was more afraid of him getting in trouble for hurting me. I couldn't stand the idea of Frankie being taken away and locked in a shitty place, ever.

I almost didn't recognize his face when I observed him, muscles contracted by rage and madness. His long hair was plastered to his skin, soaked in perspiration. His knuckles were white from the high amount of pressure he was employing to prevent me from snatching the dangerous object from him. In a desperate move, I tightened my fingers around his waist.  


"Y-you're hurting m-me," he whimpered, nearly making me loosen up. "AS-ASSHOLE, L-LEMME... N-NOW! G-GONNA KILL YOU!"  


My heart ached upon hearing that and I squeezed with more force. With a whimper his hand opened, but he hit me with his other elbow and the lamp fell to the floor; millions of tiny pieces of glass scattering all over. Frankie covered his ears, emitting a high pitched yowl that froze my blood.

"It's ok...we're ok, calm down..." I whispered, cautiously approaching him.  


"N-no. Nononononononoo. Th-they're here. Th-they w-won't shut up. H-he won't sh-shut up. Y-you...shut up, t-too. And...and an-animals...l-lots and...and w-walls and th-things and... n-no," he babbled and collapsed to the floor on his knees.  


"Frankie, you're gonna get cut, the floor is covered in glass! Get up!" I tried to pick him up, but he didn't comply.  


"N-NO! D-DON'T TOUCH M-ME. N-NO. I...I D-DUNNO. D-dunno..." he repeated the last word over and over, proceeding to crawl along the glass path. 

Once again I attempted to remove him from there and he sent me on my butt for the second time. I could sense the glass fragments penetrating my palms and stinging me through my jeans.  


Frank started to cry. First softly, then a little harder, in the end screaming like in agony, choking with his sobs. He was pacing rapidly around the room on his knees and hands, leaving blood trails on his way.  


"Frankie please get up, you're hurt...please, please kid, stop this...I'm scared..." I began to cry too. Every time I'd get closer he screamed even louder and hit me or kicked me. 

He reached a wall and sat up. Resting his palms against it he let them slide down, smearing his blood on it.  


I was crying harder and harder, terrified, not knowing what to do. I tried to calm down while Frank seemed hypnotized staring at the red marks. I left the room before he could react, ran to the front door and left it unlocked. After that I returned to the battlefield, unable to stop the waterfall of tears bathing my cheeks. Frankie was now banging his head against that same wall, murmuring 'stop' and sniffing.

I came near him slowly, grabbing his shoulders. "Fran..."  


"N-NO! I'M B-BREAKING IT, S-STOP...B-BACK OFF!" he jumped and shoved me, my middle back hitting the wood of the bed this time.  


"Oh, fuck..." I winced but got on my feet, going for my cellphone. While making the call, I stood in the way between Frank and the walls to keep him from breaking his head. He was a mass of nerves and I guessed his legs couldn't support him in this state, that's why he was crawling.

"Hello?" came the voice from the other side of the line.  


"R-ray please h-help me, he..."  


"Gerard, are you crying? What's wrong?" he asked alarmed.  


"It's...it's Frank. He...he's out of control...he's like...violent and I don't know how to stop him and...and he's hurt and there's glass and blood and...I'm fucking scared Ray, p-please..." It was hard to speak clear when I could barely breath. Frank was furiously punching my legs and shouting to get me off the wall.  


"Oh fuck, Gee...I can hear him. I'm going right now."  


"Y-yes please but...but could you go to a pharmacy and buy some kind of...sedative?"  


"What? But..."  


"Just...just any normal ones, whatever you can get them to sell you without prescription. I know m-my mom used to t-take them in a time. I...I...I'll just give him a bigger dose...please... F-FUCK!"  


"Gee?"  


"H-he just...bit my leg. Please, hurry. The d-door's open," I stammered.  


"Ok. Leaving!"

The next minutes felt like hours. I couldn't stop crying while Frankie carried on attacking me to reach the walls. When he gave up on that, he stopped dead and stared at the floor.  


"Oh no, please..." I whispered. Not minding the glass, I launched myself on him and held him close. I let him fight, bitch, cry, scream, bite and kick. I concentrated on the only important task and endured it all, never letting him go until the door opened and I heard Ray gasp.  


"Oh my God, what the hell happened here?" he exclaimed.  


"G-GET OFF Y-YOU TOO. AN-AND YOU LET M-ME GO, B-BITCH!" Franked growled.  


"Uhm...maybe we should call an exorcist?" Ray tended to make jokes when he was nervous, just when no one was in the mood to laugh. I cursed him without words. "Ok, sorry. I'm just...shocked. Damn...you're both hurt! What...? God..." he rambled.  


"Ray p-please! I won't be able to hold him for m-much longer, could you buy something?" I inquired, avoiding Frank's nails that were reaching up for my face.  


"Yes, the girl at the pharmacy couldn't resist my charm!" he joked again. "My aunt used to take these when he was hysterical 'cause my uncle left her. She was ok with one...but it's not like she'd get possessed..."  


"Uh...get...two prepared. No, make it two and a half," I told him.  


"UH F-FUCKERS! I'M G-GONNA KICK YOUR AS-SES AND P-PUPPY WILL BITE Y-YOU AND YOU S-SUCK AND YOU'RE M-MEAN AND H-HATE ME AND I H-HATE YOU ALL!"

Ray disappeared and came back a minute later with the pills and a glass of water. Placing the water on the chair he scratched his head, thinking. "He's not gonna take them willingly...I guess."  


"I know...can you hold him? My arms are already too tired, I'll open his mouth."  


"Let's see..." Ray took Frank from my arms, and the boy started kicking and screaming with even more strength. I couldn't understand how he could still have so much energy.  


My friend threw Frankie on the bed, pinning him down with his whole body. "Hurry up!" he called.  


Keeping the pills in a fist, I tried to open Frank's mouth with my other hand, cursing at his bites.  


"D-DO NOT W-WANT! N-NO PILLS...NO P-PILLS!"  


"Frankie, you _have_ to take them. These are not your pills, it's just for you to be able to calm down and sleep. Open your mouth?" I pleaded nicely.  


"N-NO!" he contorted his body, desperate to escape from below Ray.  


"Press his jaw, just when the teeth start." Ray gave me instructions as he kept Frank's hands in place. 

I grabbed Frank's jaw with my thumb and index, searching until I found the exact spots. I didn't want to cause him any pain, but I had to do this. I pressed on both sides at the same time, having the pills ready at close distance. His mouth eventually yielded and opened a little. I quickly shoved the pills down his throat and held his face up. He coughed and couldn't help swallowing. 

Then I grabbed the glass of water and, raising his head just a bit, pressed it to his lips. "Drink, come on."  


"N-no, fuck you!"  


"I think he swallowed them anyway," Ray commented.  


"Ok..."

As we waited for the pills to kick in, Frankie wouldn't stop cursing, squirming and crying. After some time I cautiously lied on the bed beside them. Ray was still squashing Frankie, but as minutes passed by the struggle eased.  


"I think you can set him free now," I told Ray. 

He got off the boy, sitting up.  


Frankie was breathing heavily and his eyes were fixed on the ceiling. When he became aware that he could move, he shifted his position and got closer to me, hugging my torso. He was shaking and his heart beat so violently that I feared it was gonna break out of his chest. There was blood all over the mattress, there was blood all over my white t-shirt and Ray's green one. The whole room was a mess of glass and blood.

I caressed the poor boy's hair, feeling his heartbeats slowly go back to normal. He looked up to me with his beautiful, big crossed eyes. They were glassy and reddened. His face was also stained with blood and his forehead was swollen. Even so, he was the prettiest boy I had ever seen. I couldn't believe the sweet Frankie who was staring at me now was the same one who had tried to hurt me minutes ago.  


"M-my hands h-hurt," he told me, almost voiceless.  


"I know, baby," I hushed him. "Ray...would you look for the first aid kit? It's over the bathroom's cabinet."  


"Sure, but why over and not inside of it?" he questioned.  


"Because that way...a certain short boy can't reach it," I explained.  


"Oh ok, you're right!"  


Ray returned with the kit in one hand and a bowl of water in the other, a little towel hanging from his arm."I think we should wash his hands first, so we can see how hurt they are and if there are pieces of glass."  


"Yeah, good idea..." I made Frankie sit down, supporting him with my own body. Tiredness, plus the effect of the sedatives, had helped him relax and he was rather feeble.  


"N-no...hurts..." he mumbled.  


"It's just water, don't be afraid," Ray reassured him.  


"K-kay. Wh-why my h-hands hurt?" he asked as I carefully got them into the bowl, washing the blood away. He hissed and tried to free them.  


"Shhh...I need to clean them, it'll be done in a moment. You don't remember what happened?" 

"N-no I...I r-remember I came h-here with Puppy and then...th-then _he_ w-was talking to me and b-bothering me and...I...I d-don't know..." He spoke slower than usual. It was as if it wasn't him who had gone wild earlier. He truly seemed not to remember anything, I could read the confusion on his face. Maybe his mind had momentarily gone on overload, his system had failed and that wasn't registered in his memory.  


"Well, you were holding the lamp, it fell and broke, and you insisted on playing on the floor the same," I gave him a simpler version of what had happened. It was better for him not to know. In the meantime, I wrapped his hands in the towel, trying not to cause him much pain. Fresh blood tinted it.  


"Oh...I...I l-liked that lamp!" he grieved.  


"Don't worry, we'll buy a new lamp, prettier than that one."  


"K-kay," he nodded groggily.  


"Ray, could you check one hand and see if there are particles of glass? Here you have some tweezers to extract them. I'll check the other." I requested handing him the elements. 

It wasn't easy to distinguish the shards, since the multiple cuts kept on bleeding. They weren't too deep, but there were a lot. Frank's whole palms and part of his fingers were covered in little scrapes and cuts. I drenched a ball of cotton in peroxide and pressed it to his skin to help things a little. I was thankful that that I could see pretty well.  


After almost twenty minutes, both Ray and I were sure there was no glass left in Frank's hands, so I disinfected them well and got the iodine from the kit. Frankie whimpered, scared.  


"It doesn't hurt, I promise. See?" I applied the substance. All those wounds were gonna hurt pretty bad when dry, though.  


"T-true," he admitted, a lot braver than me for those things. 

Lastly I bandaged his hands, considering it necessary at least for the night; specially because they were still slightly bleeding.  


By the time we finished, Frankie was falling asleep. I laid him on the bed so he'd be more comfortable, we had yet to check his legs. Again, Ray and I took care of one each. Luckily, the jeans Frank was wearing were thick and only a few pieces had broken through it and into the skin of his knees. We got them out and then took off his pants. The damage was minimum there, so I only applied some peroxide. He didn't notice anything.  


Ray then obliged me to show him my hands. They were no way as bad as Frankie's and it was enough with some band-aids, though he did have to get some glass out of my ass.  


Only when we were done and I lied down I took conscience of the pain coursing through my whole body.  


Ray eyed me worried. "Gee, are you okay?"  


"Yeah...its just that...everything hurts. I...fell and hit my ass and my back."  


"More like he pushed you..."  


"He didn't know what he was doing! You heard him, he doesn't even remember." I sighed loudly.  


"Gerard...this time he went too far. I know it wasn't his intention, but you must admit that he got pretty violent. Maybe it's too dangerous to have him..."  


"No it's not!" I cut him off. "He just needs to see a doctor and take his meds, then he'll be ok. If you're afraid and don't wanna watch him anymore, fine. I'll find another person." I regretted my words when I saw the hurt on Ray's face. 

"Its not that! I promised you I would help you and I won't fail you. I'm just worried, this is getting harder than you had thought."  


"I know Ray, sorry. I'm just...tired and sore. Things will get better, I know they will. Oh, fuck!" I flinched at a new wave of pain. "Good that I have the day off tomorrow..."  


"Talking about that, I'm too tired myself now; I'll stay here for the night so I can help you clean all this tomorrow." He patted my arm. "Sleep."  


"Thanks Ray, for everything. You rock man! Goodnight."

I brushed some locks of sweat-wet hair out of Frank's face, watching him sleep peacefully. I needed to do something for him, for us. What happened that night had scared me shitless, more than I had admitted to Ray afterwards. But not even seeing Frank's violent side had made me change my mind or love him any less. I had to help him, two more weeks was too long of a wait. Something needed to be done sooner.  


I closed my eyes, an idea roaming my head.  


	16. Chapter 16

_So never mind the darkness,  
we still can find a way.  
'Cause nothing lasts forever,  
even cold November rain._

The following day Ray and I didn't dare wake Frank up. We thought it'd be better to wait until he did by himself and only then try to fix the chaos that reigned in the bedroom after his violent tantrum.

When it was more than 1 PM and the boy hadn't shown any signs of leaving dreamland, we decided to get to work with no more delay. We started by cleaning the walls. The hand-shaped blood prints that adorned them could have been an interesting style of art if I wasn't rather creeped out by it. They were fairly easy to wipe off though, since the paint was washable. The floor, on the contrary, was the hardest part. We carefully swept all the glass fragments into a pile and then scooped them up with the help of a dustpan, placing them over some extended newspapers. It was amazing how a simple small lamp could break into so many peaces and cover the whole floor.

By the time we had wrapped the glass to be safely thrown into the trashcan, the pain in my body struck back. I tried my best not to let Ray notice. I didn't want to hear him go over about the dangers of having a kid like Frank at home and how he could have hurt me even worse. I knew he was right. From the start I'd imagined it wouldn't be easy and now I knew just _how bad_ it could get. Yet instead of changing my mind because of that, I was more determined to help Frank than ever.

I checked up on him. He was still sound asleep in spite of the daylight illuminating the room and the noise Ray and I had been making. Was it normal for him to sleep that much? I didn't think the sedatives were too strong, specially not for someone with his problem who surely took much stronger pills. It was probably the large amount of energy he spent that had left him so tired. He'd been too tense, too angry, too out of his mind. The strength he had displayed seemed unexplainable, it was frightening.

Ray contemplated the red smudged floor. "It won't be easy to get rid of the blood, it's already dry."   


"Let me go for some cleansing stuff. Not that they're exactly made to get rid of blood, but I guess it'll work better than just water," I said. 

I brought the needed elements but it still wasn't working too well with the mop, so we got on our knees and began to rub the ceramic surface. A wave of pain hit me and I frowned, straightening up.  


"Are you ok, Gerard?" Ray asked.  


"Yeah I'm fine, just a little sore, told you."  


"Sure? I can do this by myself..." he offered.  


"No way Ray, you shouldn't be even helping me. Frank and whatever he does is my responsibility," I insisted. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but reconsidered when I went back to my task; he knew how stubborn I could be. Soon, the pain in my back was unbearable and I stopped once again.  


Ray rolled his eyes at me. "Go sit there and stay quiet, for God's sake. I'll finish this."  


"But Ray..."  


"No 'buts." He signaled towards the bed with his index finger.  


"Ok..." I lied down slowly, not wanting to disturb Frankie.  


More than an hour later, Ray left and Frank was still sleeping. I was worried, I was really worried. Should I try to wake him up? Should I call a doctor?  


I got closer to him. He was breathing normally and his features denoted peace. Nothing appeared to be wrong with him. The idea of waking him up when he was having the most pacific sleep since I met him sounded like a crime, so I resolved to wait a little longer.  


In the meantime, I needed something to do or I'd go crazing worrying over Frankie. I thought back to an idea I'd had the night before when all the chaos was over. I got up with difficulty, growling as my beaten bones complained. Bringing a chair from the kitchen, I stood on it to reach the top of the closet.  


I wondered why lifting my arms also hurt so much. "Oh, right...I held Frankie while he was fighting like a beast for more than fifteen minutes until Ray came," I answered myself. 

Ignoring the discomfort, I took a big box from the last shelf, sitting at the edge of the bed with it. I rummaged through the items inside of it, mostly things from when I was younger. I had wanted to have some memories with me for those days when I'd get nostalgic. Toys, plushes, children books and even some notebooks from my first years of school; only a few, since the rest was still at my old house. Reaching the bottom of the blue box, I pulled out a rectangular, black and gold wooden case. I opened it. Inserted on the velvety red material that covered the interior, rested an old watch. Steel, with some parts made of gold. Apart from those details it wasn't too sophisticated, but it'd been in my family for several generations. It was one of those traditions where the father was told to pass it to his oldest son -or daughter if there were no sons- on their 18th birthday. That's what my father had done, though I had never known what to do with it. It still worked, but it was so old fashioned and ugly that I could never used it. Besides, antiqueness made it valuable, so it wasn't safe to show it around and my dad would kill me if I lost it or even sold it. But, what if it was just a _temporary_ thing? What if I...pawned it?

Yes, I'd do that, he didn't have to know. As long as Mikey didn't find out I had nothing to fear. I needed money _immediately_ , Frank _had_ to see a doctor. His episode had scared me and not just because he'd gotten violent against me. It also worried me that being so messed up and nervous most of time could affect his health in other ways. At one point during the agitated previous night, I had feared that he would have a heart attack.  


Fuck family traditions, I needed the money. I'd think about how to rescue the watch later on. For the moment I shoved it into my bag and got everything back in the box, repeating the painful process of the chair.

I was planning my future actions when I heard a faint cry behind my back. I turned and saw that Frankie was finally awake and sitting, looking at his bandaged hands where blood had made its way through the white material. He tried flexing his fingers and whimpered even more.  


"Hey, I was missing you already. How are you feeling?" I asked in a low voice, though judging by his face the answer was clear.  


"N-not good. My...my h-hands hurt a l-lot. All m-my body h-hurts. H-head also hurts, and m-my throat. I...I d-don't feel g-good, no," he rasped, tears escaping his eyes. 

I sat over the pillow behind him and held him by the waist. He leaned on me and I hid my nose in his hair, kissing it briefly.  


"I know what can make you feel better, a bath," I proposed. He'd sweated a lot and didn't smell exactly good, but was too worn out to stand in the shower.  


"B-but my hands h-hurt! H-how will I d-do to wash m-myself?" he questioned. I hadn't thought of that. Frankie seemed strangely coherent so far.  


"Oh...you're right. Let's do something: if you promise to stay right here I'll fill the bathtub and then I'll help you, ok?" I needed to think about him before anything else, even if I knew my offer could bring some problems.  


"R-really? K-kay. I...I'll s-stay here, p-promise," he sniffed, this time smiling weakly.  


Once it was all prepared, I assisted Frankie to the bathroom. His legs were shaky and didn't respond too well, so he accepted my support and walked slowly, keeping his head low. I had set the water to a tepid temperature, the day was too hot to have it any warmer.  


"H-hurts..."  


"I know. Let me help you with this." I tugged at his t-shirt. He raised his arms and I got it off, that leaving him in only his worn off, white with green dots boxers. 

I knew I shouldn't stare, I didn't _want_ to stare but my eyes disobeyed and went directly to his underpants. They were sweet and sexy at the same time, _just like Frankie_. I looked at his face instead, meeting a timid smile.

"Can you take these off yourself?" I asked. He didn't hear me, just kept on staring at me zombie-like. "Frankie? Your boxers, can you take them off?" I repeated.  


He brought his hands to the waistband and lowered them a little. "C-can't! M-my hands...h-hurt," he yelped.

Right at that moment, I thought I saw something inside his pants that wasn't so noticeable seconds ago. Shrugging it off I stood behind him, pulling the boxers down all the way to his legs where he kicked them off. I did that with my eyes closed, not wanting to find myself checking Frank's ass like a perv. When I opened them, though, Frank had turned to me completely naked and it didn't seem to make him shy. Maybe he just wasn't aware that there could be something wrong or weird about it, same as he couldn't recognize danger.  


"I...I g-get in there, th-then?" he asked childishly. Betrayed by my man instincts, my eyes fell bellow his belly, confirming that I hadn't been wrong before. I quickly looked away, back to Frank's face. He evidently wasn't registering this happening in his own body, which made me feel worse. "G-gee! C-can I?"  


Deep inside I knew it was normal for me to feel tempted to watch Frank. I was an adult man and he wasn't a kid -even though he sometimes acted like one. What's more, he was absolutely beautiful. Nevertheless, seeing him so innocent and unaware took me to blame myself for being so weak.  


"Oh, wait..." I added a little more of cold water. "Now you can."  


All the time while I was bathing him he looked me right in the eyes, at least as much as his unfixed ones allowed. It wasn't until I was washing his hair, massaging it slowly, that he closed his eyes and smiled relieved, comfy. Of course, I wasn't going to wash his private parts, and he said he couldn't do it, so I told him it was okay to skip that for the day.  


"G-gee?" he spoke after a while.  


"Yes?"  


"I...I dreamed s-something. I th-think I dreamed it, n-not sure."  


"What was it, Frankie?" I made him throw his head back to rinse his hair.  


"I h-had the lamp in my h-hand. Th-the one that b-broke? And...and I w-wanted to hit you!" he recalled confused. I swallowed. Had he actually dreamed of it? Had he suddenly remembered? "Th-that's how it h-happened, Gee?"  


I didn't want to lie to him anymore. "Well...yes. But you hadn't been feeling well yesterday, it wasn't your fault. I know you didn't mean it and you didn't hit me anyway, so don't worry."  


Tears joined the water that decorated his soft skin. "N-no...that's wrong. _Wr-wrong_. Wh-why I did th-that? I...I w-would never n-never hurt you G-gee, really!"  


"I know, Frankie, you..."  


"I...I d-don't remember, b-but he...he maybe t-told me to d-do it. Y-yes. 'C-cause sometimes...he t-tells me that n-nobody likes me and...and y-you don't like m-me either," he sniffed loudly. "Y-you do like m-me...right, G-gerard?"  


When I heard him say that I couldn't stop my tears. All the same I was glad that he realised what he had tried to do was wrong. Even if he didn't remember what he was thinking at that moment, only images as flashbacks. Even if he would probably do it again because he had no control over that. At least he _knew_ that what had happened was bad and something he'd never do consciously. That was enough for me.  


"Of course I like you! Please, don't think so much about it, I know you're a good kid." I kissed his bruised forehead softly.  


He lifted his wounded hand -I'd removed the bandages once wet- and touched my lips, feeling them like a blind person would. Then he clung to my neck to bring me nearer, closed his eyes and went right for my mouth; a kiss a little more powerful and needy than the previous ones. I stayed quiet, but didn't push him away. I felt him retreat and saw a regretful expression on his face; he was unsure of whether he had acted right or wrong.  


I couldn't help what I did next: I held his face and kissed him back, very delicately as if I was afraid of breaking him when really, I think it was his mind what I didn't want to damage any further. I had doubts about every thing I did, and my fear had duplicated after the night before. But I loved Frankie.  


His smile was so wide that it seemed to reach his ears. "Y-you're my b-boyfriend now?" he asked. 

I wanted to say 'yes', I wanted to see that smile grow even bigger; hold him and kiss him again, longer and more passionately. But...there were priorities. I couldn't risk fucking things up, it was too soon. Frank's mental health was first, I needed to wait until he was medicated. And that wasn't all. If I told him we were boyfriends he would want to tell everybody. That couldn't happen.  


"No, we can't be boyfriends yet. For now we are...friends that need each other too much and like to cuddle and kiss to demonstrate it. But this is a secret between us, ok?" I replied. My answer might have been silly, but I was looking for words that Frankie could understand. Something that wasn't a lie and didn't sound like a cruel 'no'.  


He nodded happily and kissed my cheek. "I l-like having a s-secret with you!" he cheered.

How could this boy get so violent? While I wrapped him in a big towel, I hoped I'd never have to see him like that again.

Afterwards, I applied a creamy ointment over his cuts before bandaging his hands again; that would keep them moist so it'd hurt less. Lastly, I offered him an aspirin and a glass of water.  


"N-no..." he covered his mouth with a hand.  


"It's just an aspirin, for your headache and body pain..." I tried again.  


"I s-said NO! N-no pills. Th-they're eww."  


I didn't think it prudent to insist. "You like honey, don't you?"  


"Y-yeah!" he responded. 

I ground the white pill with the bottom of a glass, mixed it with honey in a deep spoon and handed it to Frankie who had been observing me curious. "Try this."  


"K-kay..." he first tasted it with the tip of his tongue and shuddered. I thought that he wasn't going to accept it, but then he licked the spoon once and again until it was clean. "B-better, but s-still kinda ewww."

Frank was quiet for a couple of hours until he gradually went back to his usual self; the one who talked a lot, jumped around and played with Puppy indefatigably. He'd complain about his hands once in a while, but then something would distract him enough to make him forget. On the negative side, going back to normal also meant drawing away from reality. It wouldn't be so bad if he was _always_ happy in his imaginary world. Sadly, it wasn't the case.

******  


The phone rang while Frankie was taking a nap. I practically jumped on it when I saw it was Bob's number, desperate to finally hear some good news.  


"Bob! Did the brother of the friend of your friend or whatever find out something?" I didn't bother to breathe in between words.  


"Calm down, man!"  


"Just tell me!"  


"Sorry, no. This guy works for the police, so he tried to sneak into the office. The problem was that someone caught him and he had to make up excuses to save his ass. It wouldn't be too smart of him to try again..." he said. It wasn't my lucky week.  


"Oh, no, I understand."  


"Don't get your hopes down yet, though! A friend of his who now works in another city is gonna give it a try. He'll give me a call this week and let me know if he succeeded," he continued. More friends of the friend of a friend? This was going too far...  


"Bob, I told you I didn't want more people involved!"  


"And I told _you_ that none of them will give you problems!" he asserted. I wasn't so sure, but I was too tired and sore to argue.  


"Thanks anyway, call me if you know something else, ok?"  


"Ok! Bye, Gerard!"  


"Bye..."

I felt suffocated, overwhelmed, lost. I needed something to go right for once. I wanted to be able to relax with a sense of security. I also needed some fresh air, to escape those walls for a while and allow my brain to oxygenate. Frankie acted very eager to go out when I mentioned it, though there weren't many possibilities I could think of. We weren't in the best condition for long walks and I wanted to avoid noisy places.  


I finally came up with an option that could cover more than one of my needs: we'd walk a few blocks to a near Pawn Shop, taking it easy, maybe having a soda on our way. There was no rush to get there, although I did have the urge to pawn the watch that same day. The more I waited, the more I'd doubt  


"Now please stay quiet and don't get too far away from me," I told Frankie as soon as we entered the Pawn Shop. While I retrieved the watch from my bag, I saw him shuffle towards the desk.  


"H-hi!" he greeted the owner. Frank was always incredibly sociable unless there were too many people. That scared him.  


"Hi, there!" the man attempted to shake his hand, but stopped when seeing the bandages. "Hey, what happened to your hands?"  


I paid attention to Frank's answer. "I c-cut, with g-glass. A...a l-lamp broke. If...if the gn-gnomes tell you _th-they_ threw it to the f-floor, don't b-believe them. Th-that's not true. N-no. Th-they're too small, c-can't move it! I...I d-did, but w-wasn't on pur-pose. P-promise." He sounded so sadly adorable.  


The guy looked at me smiling kindly, his eyes showing compassion. "What did he do to cut both his hands?"  


"Mess," I responded. "this little buddy makes some big messes sometimes!"  


"Oh, I have I small kid, so I kind of know about it!"

After that, the shop's owner examined the watch thoroughly and made me an offer that was fairly higher than I'd expected. It crossed my mind that Frankie might have worked his magic again; I was almost convinced that he put a spell on everyone who could leave their prejudices aside. Whatever the reason, all that mattered was that I would have the money.  


The man took my silence as vacillation. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of it until you can come get it back. I understand how hard it can be to make these kind of decisions. Family tradition, isn't it?"  


"Yeah, but I need the money so...deal!"

******  


That night, I talked Frankie into taking another aspirin with honey to ease his general soreness. I was tempted to give him a sedative, but I didn't want to medicate him on my own account if it wasn't strictly necessary. 

After I read him a fairy tale and heard him ramble incoherently for a whole hour, he finally dozed off. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and painfully plopped down on the couch phone in hand. The next step of my plan was to call my mother.  


"Mom, are you busy?"  


"I'm free right now but gotta go back to work in a few minutes. Is there something wrong, son?"  


"No...I'm calling you because my boss was able to pay me in advance," I lied.  


"Really?" she sounded incredulous.  


"Yeah, Sarah knows about my situation -though she thinks Frankie's my brother, of course. So...she got some money and wanted to help me."  


"Well, I guess you earned it."  


"Guess so. And well, Frankie has been doing worse lately, I don't want to wait any longer to take him to a doctor."  


"I know..."  


"The thing is...I need to find a good specialist who can be entrusted with the truth. This person will need to know everything we can tell about Frank to be able to help him. I can't introduce myself as his relative and then say I know little to nothing about him. How would I explain that? And I'll have to give them Frank's complete name! I can pay, but I need someone who'll be discreet and won't tell anybody that I have Frank. Oh my God..."  


"Calm down, Gerard! Breathe! If you shut up for a while I'll be able to think, ok?" mom interrupted my desperate monologue. She took like an hour to think, or maybe it was just a couple of minutes that felt like an hour to me.  


"There isn't any psychiatrist in the hospital I work at. As you know, it's a small one. But I have many good friends here, and some work or have worked in other places. I'm sure someone will be able to help us, I'll ask them."  


"Can you?"  


"Of course, son."  


"But please do it soon! And...don't tell your friends _everything_ because..."  


"Gerard, stop it! I'll go ask them right now. And don't worry, I won't give them any details. I'll only tell them that I need a doctor who can keep his mouth shut. It's that enough for you?"  


"Yes..."  


"Relax, we'll find someone! You have the money, it's not that we'll be asking for free favors!" she raised her voice on the phone, making me flinch.  


"You're right, sorry. I'm just _very_ worried about Frankie, I want to help him."  


"Something else happened that you're not telling me?" she suspected. I couldn't tell her.  


"No...well, last night he was too nervous and hurt himself a little. He's fine. I just...it scares me, I want him better," I gave her the mild version.  


"Oh God, poor kid. Don't worry, I'll take care of this and call you when I have something, ok? They need me here now. Bye Gerard, love you!"  


"Ok...bye, mom! Love you too, thanks."  


I hung up the phone and thanked life for the mother I had. I would wait for things with Frank to get better and then I'd have a serious conversation with her. I hadn't treated her well those last months, I'd been an asshole and she obviously didn't deserve that. She was only worried about me. Now I understood how it felt.

I heard footsteps coming from behind the couch and saw Frankie appear. I could 'see' that he was holding his doggie, only that he was doing it with just his arms, as if his injured hands could actually hurt if he touched him. More importantly, he was trembling. It wasn't the normal slight tremble he'd sometimes have. No, his face gave away that he was scared, troubled.  


I walked to him and grabbed his chin, gently pushing his face up. "Frankie? What's wrong, baby?"  


"I...I w-woke up and...th-there were th-things whispering in the b-bedroom and I w-was alone and I was so s-scared and c-can't sleep. Th-they won't stop wh-whispering!" he related in a barely audible voice.  


"What do they say?"  


"D-don't know...can't un-understand but it's s-scary. P-puppy heard them t-too, see? H-he's shaking," he showed me his pet. Maybe it'd been only a bad dream?  


"I guess you dreamed it. Come on, I'm ready to go to bed now so you won't be alone," I guided him. 

Frank stopped dead when we crossed the bedroom's door. "N-no I didn't d-dream it! Th-they're still f-fucking whispering, s-stop them!" He covered his ears and started to cry. 

I got in the bed and patted the spot beside me."Come here."  


He lied down and hugged me so tightly that it was hard to breathe. "H-hear th-them? Y-you understand wh-what they're s-saying?" he murmured.  


"No, Frankie, I can't hear anything," I answered honestly.  


"Wh-why? Wh-why can't you hear th-them?"  


"I don't know baby, I guess they don't want me to hear them. But I'm sure they won't hurt you."  


"I d-don't wanna h-hear them!" he sobbed.  


"Then I'll sing into your ear until you fall asleep so you won't hear the whispers anymore," I told him. 

His crying ceased and he brought his head closer to mine. With my lips almost grazing his ear, I sang.  


_When I look into your eyes  
I can see a love restrained.  
But darling when I hold you,  
don't you know I feel the same?  
'Cause nothing lasts forever  
and we both know hearts can change.  
And it's hard to hold a candle  
in the cold November rain...  
_

Those were the times when Frank wasn't happy in his own world, the times when I wanted to get him out of it more than ever, rescue him.

******

The next afternoon, when I arrived home from work, Ray told me that my mom had just called. 

"Ah, thanks! I'll call her back right now then. How were things today?" I asked as I hugged Frankie, who was determined to kiss my mouth. I avoided it at all costs. "Not now, Frankie." I muttered.  


"K-kay," he whispered back.  


"Not bad, nothing I couldn't manage. He acted a little rebellious and we had another wet chair and a broken egg, but mostly a good day compared to others," Ray commented, ignorant to mine and Frank's secret matter.  


"Good to know!"  


"He didn't eat much, though."  


"Oh...it's ok, he had a good breakfast this morning. I'll call my mom and then try to make him eat some cookies," I said going for the phone.

"Mom! Did you find a doctor?" I threw the question as soon as she answered.  


"Gerard..."  


"Yeah I know, I'm calmed, now tell me."  


"Ok. I don't have much time, so I'll be quick. Frank has an appointment in three days..."  


"Thursday?" I interrupted.  


"Yes, Gerard. At 6 p.m. This man's one of the nurses' old friend. He's both a psychiatrist and neurologist and lives near your town. She said we can trust him. I already talked to him and told him all we know about Frank so you don't have to do it in front of the boy when you go."  


"Wow! Thank you, mom! What would I do without you?" I felt nervous but happy to be closer to helping Frankie.  


"You'd get even more desperate, for sure! Now...write down the address just in case -though I'll try to go with you. Hurry up, I have to leave!"  


"Ok, tell me." I grabbed a notebook and a pen. "Frankie, let me listen! Sorry, he was singing. Yes mom, ready now."  


Before I could thank her, Frankie snatched the phone from me. "L-lemme sing her the s-song I made up!"  


As I smiled at the singing boy, I felt content and hopeful. A more normal life for Frankie was on its way, I'd make that sure. 


	17. Chapter 17

_Sometimes I give myself the creeps,  
sometimes my mind plays tricks on me.  
It all keeps adding up,  
I think I'm cracking up..._

The next three days felt like months, as it usually happens when you're desperately waiting for something. But as anxious and willing as I was to take Frankie to the psychiatrist, I was also scared. Scared of what that man would say, scared of whatever else could be wrong with Frank -because that note in his ID implied _there was_ something else, scared of him telling me that Frankie needed to be in a specialized place. My other fear was that I had no certainty that this doctor wasn't going to denounce me. No matter what my mother said, I couldn't be so sure. I knew, however, that I had to leave all my fears aside for the moment and think about Frankie's health.

The multiple cuts on the boy's hands had begun to slowly heal and he was using them more, though he still complained about the pain; mostly because he refused to have them bandaged anymore. My mobility remained limited, but the soreness in my back and ass was also diminishing with the help of an awfully-smelling unguent Ray had stolen from his mother.

Ever since his violent episode, I'd been rather afraid of doing or saying something that could trigger Frank's anger. I hadn't exactly done anything to induce that behavior back then, it had just been a very bad day; yet I tried try to be cautious, just in case. He hadn't reached such a level of aggression again, but had been remarkably nervous and edgy. His tics where very frequent and he wasn't very communicative, having more conversations with his imaginary friends than with us. He found it hard to stay quiet and couldn't concentrate long enough to do anything. Then he had periods when he went motionless and nearly completely unresponsive.  


Regardless of this, both Ray and I managed him well and things hadn't gotten out of control. We basically let him do whatever he pleased as long as it wasn't dangerous; interacting with him only when he allowed us or it was necessary, and otherwise just watching him closely.  


Frank's sleep pattern was totally altered too. He slept more during the day -for shorts periods of time- than at night. He rarely ate real food and had been mostly living off snacks and sweets that we gave him during his few coherent moments. If he didn't get help soon his overall health would be affected.

******  


That afternoon, I arrived home to find Frankie watching TV sitting on my mother's lap. Or more like blindly staring at it.  


"Hello, sonny!" mom greeted me. "I made it here earlier than I'd thought so I told Ray to go home, he looked tired. How was your day?"  


"Poor Ray..." I thought aloud. "My day...it was ok, I've been a little distracted thinking about today, you know?"  


"It's gonna be ok," she assured me.  


"Hey...no 'hi' for me? My mom's lap's too comfy?" I joked kissing Frank's head. He smiled sleepily, keeping his eyes on the screen.  


"Poor angel isn't exactly 'on earth', are you baby?" my mother touched his cheek. He shuddered and observed her confusedly. "Ray said he was restless for hours until he ran out of energy. I brought him here with me because I couldn't stand leaving him on the floor looking so lost."  


"Uh...t-two...two ch-chairs and...and a g-goat there," Frank mumbled.  


"Yes, I saw them. But Gerard's here, aren't you going to say hello to him?"

"Oh...y-yeah," he said with a little voice and lifted his eyes. They looked clouded, not by anything tangible but the reflection of what was happening inside of his head. "H-hi, Gee."  


I knelt down and he embraced me loosely, resting his head on my shoulder. "Hi, Frankie. You're gonna be better soon," I whispered.

A little more than an hour later, we were ready to leave. I'd made Frankie wear a pair of blue jeans that didn't fit me, since he didn't have many clothes of his own. They looked pretty well and not even too tight on him. As top he chose his Jack Skellington t-shirt, which was the only one that seemed new and evidently his favorite. He completed his attire with his sole pair of red fake-Converse sneakers. I'd certainly have to buy him more shoes, mine were too big for him

He had become more alert as soon as he heard that we'd be going out. His happy smile didn't falter when I told him that we were taking him to the doctor, which made me think that he'd either not understood or been okay with it.

******  


Due to the intense traffic at that hour -when most people left their jobs and hurried to get home- we arrived to the doctor's office _just_ in time.  


"He's Frank Iero, we're here for an appointment with Doctor Goldberg," I told the girl who opened the door.  


"N-no! _Frankie_!" he tugged at my sleeve.  


"Please to meet you, Frankie," she smiled ruffling his hair. Everybody was tempted to. "Very well! Follow that corridor to the last door, you can sit there to wait. I think the doctor will be free in only a couple of minutes, anyway."

The three of us headed there; my mother holding Frank's hand and I following behind. The place was surprisingly nice, with walls painted pale yellow and a lot of pictures with childish colored motifs hanging from them. The bright colors instantly attracted Frank, though I could guess by the way he tilted his head and squinted that he couldn't distinguish much in them. When we were reaching the indicated door, it opened to make way for a red haired woman, who detained her steps to put something inside of her purse. As my mom walked past her, Frank reached up for the woman's chest, seemingly grabbing something out of it.

"Frankie! Don't bother the lady!" I moved him away from her.  


"B-but...she had a b-butterfly on her sh-shirt!" he peeped inside of his hands that formed a sort of cocoon.  


My mom turned to see what had happened. "Oh! Sorry, I wasn't watching him," she apologized.  


"Nah, don't worry, I understand. He's schizophrenic, isn't he?" the other asked. I nodded, watching Frank near his hands to my mom's eyes so she could spy the imaginary insect he'd trapped. "So is my son, you can say I'm used to it. I came for a prescription. But...this kid's so young...must be even harder for someone his age."  


"He's 18, though he looks younger," I commented.  


"Really? Well, that's still too young. From what I've learned, this illness usually develops later. My son's 35 and only started to show symptoms five years ago," she continued. I had no idea of that and it made me feel even worse for my poor Frank.  


"Frankie has been ill since he was a little kid."  


"Oh God, life can be cruel sometimes." She gave out a sad sigh, looking at Frank compassionately.  


"Son...I'm going out with Frankie so he can let the butterfly free," my mother informed me.  


"Ok, but come back quickly. We'll be called in at any moment now," I advised her, smiling as I saw Frank walk slowly while he concentrated on not letting his hands separate.  


"Will do."  


"You seem to be very patient people," the woman patted my back, getting ready to leave. "that's the most important thing they need. Good luck."  


"Thanks, same for you."

******  


Doctor Goldberg appeared at the door. He was somewhat tall, with thick grayish hair and gentle green eyes. If I was to speak about first impressions, it had been a good one.  


"Frank Iero?" his voice was soft and perfectly matched the way he looked.  


"Uh...he went to..."  


"F-frankie!" he came back just in time to correct the man.  


"I'm Mark. You can come in, Frankie," Goldberg invited him with a warm smile. 

Frank stepped back doubtfully and shook his head. "I...I d-don't want to..."  


"Baby, you need to see the doctor, it's going to be fine," my mother encouraged him.  


"N-no. No d-doctor, no."  


"Listen, do you want to get rid of the voice inside your head and all the mess you sometimes have in there?" Mark questioned Frank. 

The boy scratched his head compulsively. "Y-yeah...guess. D-dunno," was his ambiguous answer.  


"I promise I won't do anything bad. Nothing will hurt, I'm sure you've had this all done to you before."  


"B-but sometimes...they g-gave me shots and th-that hurt. I d-don't want shots," Frankie murmured, clearly not feeling at ease with those memories. I glanced at the doctor, worried.  


"I'm not going to give you any shot."  


"P-promise? I'll s-send all the l-little people to attack you if y-you do..."  


"I promise, I don't want to be attacked," Goldberg laughed.

We all got into the room. It was painted the same color as the corridor, but instead of the pictures you could see several posters with different cuts of the human brain. On a corner, over a small table, there was also a plastic replica of a brain. At the opposite corner, a machine connected to a monitor and surrounded by many other elements I had no idea the names of. Close to that and against the farthest wall, a steel stretcher with a thin mattress covered by white sheets. To the right, a desk with three chairs.

As expected, Frankie ran to the replica and picked it up, grimacing as his harmed fingers made contact with it. He was like those little children who couldn't keep their hands off every thing they saw. Objects of many colors were his soft spot, and that was the case of this plastic brain: one color for each lobe.  


"Frankie, leave that where it was, kid," mom said to him gently.  


"He can have it for a while, it's not breakable," the doctor stated.  


"N-no it's not like th-that. Sh-shut up! L-leave me alone. N-no...wrong. S-see? F-fuck you, you kn-know nothing." Frank had taken seat on the floor and was arguing with his inner voice.  


"Frankie, what's wrong?" Mark sat next to him.  


"H-he knows n-nothing. S-says I c-can't dis...dis ...d-disassem..." he grunted, smacking his head.  


"Disassemble?" Goldberg helped him. I assumed that he referred to the replica, which pieces could be taken out.  


"Y-yeah, that! H-he says I c-can't do that with m-my brain."  


"Well, he's right, you can't."  


"Y-yes I can! I'm g-gonna dis...d-dis...that my brain and k-kick him out of th-there!" Frank assured. I held his hand to stop him from hurting himself.  


"You don't need to do that. Let me help you and we'll get rid of him, ok?" Goldberg smiled.  


"K-kay."  


"Well, even though the diagnosis is clear, I'd like to converse with Frankie alone for a while, and also do some tests. Mostly because there _might_ exist, as the ID implied, other problems besides schizophrenia."  


"How bad can it be?" I got alarmed.  


"Gerard...let him do his job first," my mother tried to calm me.  


"I can't say yet. But from the information your mother gave me about the kid, I gathered that some symptoms are increased, and others might not even be due to the main problem. What's more, schizophrenia cases among young children are not so common, so I want to be extra careful about it. I prefer not to tell you anything more until I check him."  


"Ok, then," I agreed, unsure. "Frankie...we're gonna leave you here with the doctor for a while, ok? It's gonna be alright, I promise. Donna and I will be outside."  


"N-NO! D-don't want you to l-leave!" he got up and hugged me.  


"Just for a little while, sweetheart, If you're a good boy it'll be even quicker. Just do everything the doctor says and answer all he asks. We'll be waiting for you and go for an ice cream afterwards." my mother rubbed his back to comfort him.  


"K-kay. B-but I want th-the ice cream."  


"You'll have it," I added.

We left the room and waited outside. During all the time I didn't even speak to my mother. I couldn't stop thinking, fearing. What if the doctor said Frankie couldn't stay with me? I didn't want to lose him, I couldn't be without him. He had given sense to my formerly meaningless life. He was my reason to keep going. He was my company, my angel...my love?  


Those last days we had randomly kissed several times while being alone. Always short kisses, pecks; yet they made me feel all warm and funny inside and I could see it was the same for Frankie. The way he'd grin and shudder, how he'd get goosebumps or slightly blush. He was so cute and innocent.  


How would things be from then on? How much would he change with the medication? I was about to find out and I had to admit that it scared me.

While Frankie was inside, we could hear him scream 'no!' a couple of times, but things had gone quiet pretty soon. My mother said I shouldn't worry, that he was with a professional who knew how to deal with people like Frank. Yet I wished I could be there with him.  


"You can come in now." Goldberg opened the door for us. Frankie was sitting on the stretcher, touching his hair and frowning.  


"How are you, Frankie?" I asked.  


"H-hair's sticky...eww. W-we fed P-puppy?" he changed the subject rapidly.  


"Yes we did, don't worry."  


"His hair is sticky because of the substance I used to fix the electrodes to his head. I did an electroencephalogram," the doctor explained. "It'll go away with water, Frankie, trust me."  


"Want me to take him outside so you can talk?" mom offered.  


"Yes, I think it's better for the moment," the psychiatrist assented.  


Once they left, he sat down and indicated me to do the same. I was too nervous to utter a simple word so I waited for him to speak.  


"First of all ...since we're alone now, is there anything else you think I should know about Frank's behavior?" he interrogated me. Just when I was waiting for answers, he gave me questions. 

I thought for an instant. "Well yes, there's something my mother doesn't know. Three days ago Frank had a very violent episode, that's how he hurt his hands, I guess you saw them," I started.  


"Yes, he told me something about it when I asked, but said he can't remember much." Mark nodded and waited for me to continue. I told him everything that had happened and he wrote things down on a notebook. He didn't interrupt me, all he said meanwhile was 'aha'.

"Ok," he spoke when I finished my report. "I must tell you that most patients with this level of schizophrenia are hospitalized. They require constant care and attention. It can be complicated, time consuming, and -as you witnessed- also dangerous. Even under medication they can be hard to deal with and might have episodes. The possibilities are reduced, but it can still happen. However, it's _your_ decision. Are you sure you feel prepared to have him at home?"  


"I'm sure. I was able to do it so far, it can't get worse from now on..." I replied without any doubt. Even though he'd made me panic, I would not give Frank away. "What about the...extra problems? What could they be?"  


"I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I think Frank might have some kind of brain damage," he simply responded. I hated how doctors found everything completely normal and forgot what those kind of news could cause in people who were medically-ignorant like me.  


"What? How...?"  


"It could have been caused by either a serious illness when he was younger, or head trauma. Having a part of the brain not fully functional forces the rest of it to work harder to make up for the failure. That stress could have made his schizophrenia develop earlier than it would have otherwise. It also maximizes the symptoms since his brain is weaker," he explicated. 

My head was about to go on overload. "But...will the medication work the same? Well, from what Frankie says it used to, he was better with it..." I rambled.  


"It'll work. I can't tell you how much because each patient is different. Sometimes several medications must be tried on some people to find the best one. But he _will_ do at least better with it. However, if my presumptions are correct, some symptoms that usually disappear -not all of them do- might persist."  


"Oh..." I babbled, not knowing what to say. Then I suddenly remembered something. "Now that I think about it, I saw a scar on his head while brushing his hair. I didn't think it important at the moment."  


"Oh, let's call him then so I can see it."

******  


"Wh-what you d-doing to my h-hair? L-leave it!" Frank protested as I fought his wild mane to access his scalp.  


"I won't do anything to your pretty hair, relax! Here it is." I showed the doctor the largish scar on the left side of his head, towards the back. Hair was missing around it.  


"Yes, it could be it. It's a very old scar, he probably got it when he was a baby or not more than a couple of years old." He meditated for some seconds after examining it. "I'll give you the prescription so he can start taking the medication, but I'd like you to bring him again for a brain scan. That way we'll know what to expect. Talk to my assistant before leaving to get an appointment."  


"Ok. Do you think the stuttering has something to do with that lesion?" I inquired.  


"It's very possible, the scar's around that area of the brain."  


"Wh-what stut-tering?" Frankie questioned. We'd never talked about it. He didn't seem to have a problem with it and it didn't stop him from talking a lot when he was in the mood.  


"The...little problem you have when you speak? That you get like...kinda stuck in some words, you know?" I put it as simple as I could. 

He looked down, saddened. "I...I s-speak too badly? K-kids there never b-bothered me 'bout it much. N-nope. 'C-cause there was an-another kid who spoke l-lot weirder."  


"No, you don't speak badly. You do pretty good, actually. Everybody can understand you and that's enough, so you don't have to worry about that," Goldberg told him kindly, making him smile.  


"Frankie...come here and show me that plastic brain, so Gerard can keep on talking to the doc," mom called him from the other side of the room. Frank appeared to like the idea. He took the replica again and began to 'explain' things to my mother. I was too curious to know what he was saying, trying to strain my ears to hear, but I finally turned to the doctor.  


"Sorry, tell me."  


"Ok, here's the prescription, and in this paper I wrote down the instructions. Since he's been many weeks without medication we'll start with a lower dose and then gradually increase it. This third paper contains all the potential side effects. Antipsychotics are strong drugs, even more so for someone this young, and some of those effects can be rather irksome. One that is almost always present is the shaking, specially on the hands. Something else could be administered to alleviate that, but your mother explained your economic situation. It can wait for now."  


"You sure it can wait? I...I feel bad for Frank, but I really can't..."

"Yes, don't worry. I deduced that Frank has never had help with that, so he's used to it. Then...he might also get dizzy at moments. It's better if you carefully read this, that way you won't get scared if any other thing happens -which I'm not saying it will. Any doubts?" He obviously noticed my terrified face.  


"No...can I call you if I have any after reading all that?"  


"Of course. Now let's talk about some things to have in mind while dealing with Frankie."  


"Ok..."

"Never fight or argue in front of him, he needs a serene environment. That's usually one of the weak points about institutions, but it's easier to achieve at home. Integrate him to daily activities whenever possible if he feels like it. Let him help even if he doesn't do things correctly, thank him and congratulate him for it. Never criticize what he does wrong. Patients with his pathology have trouble to concentrate, and Frank in particular might have extra difficulty to comprehend some directions, but it's just a matter of patience. He'll eventually learn by watching and repetition," he listed. I was going to say something, but he went on. "About the pills, he should start tonight. We'll divide the dose in two intakes per day for now. From the start you'll notice him calmer, and most probably the nervous tics and continuous eye movement will diminish or even stop. The hallucinations or hearing of voices will take days to go off -sometimes even more than a week- and in many cases they don't completely disappear. As I said earlier, each patient is different. Other symptoms as apathy or lack of emotion -which your mother told me occurs sometimes- and disorganized speech will presumably continue. Same with the inability to grasp the meaning of danger and recognize it, which has a different origin. It'll always be necessary to keep him watched."  


"Understood," I nodded. I could now hear Frank talking to my mother about gnomes and bugs. "It'll be enough if Frankie can at least acknowledge reality a little more. He's been out of it most of the time lately..." I trailed off with sadness.  


"He will, you'll see that you'll be able to have coherent conversations with him more easily. His case is severe, that's why he's so lost after near a month unmedicated."  


"Alright...is that all?" I asked timidly. 

He laughed. "It is. We'll talk again after the brain scan, ok? And you can call me if there's any problem."  


"Ok, thanks." I shook Goldberg's hand. "Frankie, we can go home now."  


"N-not home...i-ice cream! Sh-she said!" he pointed at my mother who was grinning.  


"Oh, it's true! Frankie has a very good memory, no doubt about it."  


"He behaved very well, I say he deserves an ice cream." Goldberg did what everybody was bound to do: ruffled Frank's hair. "Bye kid, see you soon. It wasn't that bad, was it?"  


"Uh...n-no but h-hair's sticky!" he complained once again.  


"Oh...Gerard, here you have the number of an oculist for Frankie. It would help a lot if he could see better and was able to read. I know this specialist and will talk to him to make you a discount. What you're doing for this boy is admirable, you could use some help."  


"Thank you _very_ much." I couldn't believe there were still so many good people in this world.

Finally, we headed for the front desk to pay the assistant. Having taken into consideration that the medication was expensive, the doctor only charged us for the electroencephalogram and not for his services, making the amount a lot smaller. We left with an appointment for Frank's brain scan set in four days.

At the pharmacy we found out just _how_ expensive the medication was. I could only hope that the money I had left would suffice to pay for the scan and do something about Frank's sight. I knew my mother and Ray would help me with the basic needs, they'd insisted on it.

After that, I drove us downtown for the promised ice cream. My mom held Frankie by the hand and I decided to take his other, not caring about what people could think of our strange trio. Frank looked at me smiling widely and started to skip while singing.

_Do you have the time  
to listen to me whine,  
about nothing and everything  
all at once..._


	18. Chapter 18

_Let me take you down,  
'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields.  
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about.  
Strawberry Fields forever._

My mother and I entered the house and went straight to the sink. Our hands that had held Frankie's on our way back were covered in ice cream. Frank's t-shirt was also stained with it and smelled like strawberries. He had gotten distracted all the time, contemplating the nightly town lights and the cars passing by. We'd needed to keep on reminding him that he had a cone in his hand and was supposed to lick from it. Half of the ice cream had ended up melting, running along his flexed arm and over his clothes.  


"Frankie, do you wanna wash your hands?" I asked, not wanting him to feel obliged. He was still standing near the door, whispering to himself. I grazed his arm. "Frankie?"

"Wh-what?"  


"Don't you wanna wash your hands?" I repeated.  


"Y-yeah...they're s-sticky. H-hair's sticky t-too..." he touched his head.  


"Oh, kid...your hair's gonna be even _more_ sticky if you run your _sticky_ hands through it!" my mom laughed.  


"Yes, maybe you should go take shower instead?" I suggested.  


"K-kay," Frank answered, indifferent. 

I imagined he must be tired. He was used to being at home and only around Ray, my mother and me. Getting to know different people and places was an interesting experience for him, although somewhat stressing at the same time. The visit to the doctor could have also brought back some memories, bad and good. It was hard to discern some feelings in Frankie, but I was sure he missed the place where he had lived for so many years, even if he never said it or cried about it. He _had_ to miss his friends, or that woman that would take care of him; maybe even the doctors.  


******  


Once Frank was clean and out of the bathroom, I took conscience that the moment to give him his meds had arrived. The problem was that I didn't know how to do that. When I met Frankie, he'd talked to me about the pills and how much he needed them. He had, in fact, _asked_ me to buy them for him. Later on, however, he'd stated that he wouldn't take _any_ pills, and had even refused to have an aspirin in the normal way. What would I do if he didn't agree to take his medication? I wouldn't dare force him every single time like Ray and I had done some nights ago to give him the sedatives; I didn't like that idea at all. In my stupid state of nervousness I had forgotten to consult the doctor about it, and calling him so soon was unwise; it would make me sound useless.  


My mother had left a while ago because she was late for work, so I found myself alone with the boy trying to think of something. One possibility was to try the honey trick again, though I doubted Frank would go along with it this time. Another was to just ask him, which sounded absurd yet fairer.

He was watching cartoons, eyes glued to the screen, when I approached him. A huge, blue t-shirt on together with black boxers that were also too big for him.  


"Frankie...you need to begin to take your meds, baby. It's only half a pill for now, would you have it with a glass of juice?" I tried. The schedule said I should give him one half that night and two halves the following day in two intakes; then the same with two thirds to finally keep it at two whole pills per day if everything went alright.  


"N-no! No I d-don't want to! C-can't! N-NO!" he cried out. 

I took a deep breath. "Want me to mix it with honey like I did with the aspirin?"  


"N-no...want _no_ p-pill, S-STOP IT!" he screamed, moving to the other side of the couch and hiding his face. I needed to be patient, I couldn't lose it, this was only the beginning. 

I sat close to him without making contact. "Baby, I know you don't like pills, no one likes them. But you need them, you _know_ you need them. Didn't you feel better at the institution?" I spoke as gently as possible, doing my best to hide my anxiety. 

He turned to me with a puzzled look. "I...I d-don't know..."  


"Did you hear that voice in your head when you were there?" I asked. 

He meditated his answer. "N-no...or...or m-maybe just a few t-times. Al-almost never."  


"See? That's because you used to take your pills there, they make him go away. You want him to go away, don't you?"  


"Y-yeah! He...he b-bothers me. I...I d-don't like what he s-says."  


"Then you need to be a good boy and take your pills. It will also make your head feel clearer, it won't be such a mess like you say it is now. Will you?" I insisted. 

He hugged his knees and rocked back and forth for a while. "K-kay but I don't l-like them. N-not even with h-honey. N-no." He frowned. 

I sighed in frustration. "You once told me that you knew the pills were white. If you saw them, that means they didn't hide them in anything when giving them to you," I remembered our first talk.  


"Th-they were wh-white, yes."  


"Ok, but how do you know?"  


"Th-the assholes g-grabbed me and...and p-put them in my m-mouth. An-and...once I s-spit-ted it. W-was white. Th-then he got an-angry and gave me a sh-shot. _H-hate_ shots," he related, giving me chills. Knowing that made me regret having forced him that night. He didn't seem to remember Ray and I doing that, though, otherwise he would have said something about it.

"They would force you to take the pills? That's how it always was?"  


"N-no...only wh-when I didn't w-want the candies."  


"Oh, then they'd give you the pills in candy?"  


"Y-yeah. Ch-chew-able candy. B-but sometimes they on-only had l-lemon and...and I don't l-like lemon. N-no. _H-hate_ lemon." He shook his head. That was it?  


"Well, we have chewable candy. Strawberry are your favorites, right?"  


"Y-yes."  


"Will you take the pill if I put it in one of those?" I caressed his face.  


"K-kay. Y-you're so an-annoying, Gee! A l-lot, he s-says too."  


Laughing, I went to the kitchen and took a strawberry candy out of the can. Before unwrapping it, I rubbed it in between my hands to melt it a little and make it softer. Then I cut a pill in two and one of the halves into even smaller pieces. I pressed the candy to them, collecting them all, and finally made a ball out of it. I went back to the living room and gave the pink ball to Frankie. 

He examined it. "L-looks the s-same."  


"Same as the ones they'd give you?"  


"Y-yeah." He put it in his mouth hesitatingly.  


"Don't chew it too much. That's enough, swallow it and drink this." I handed him a glass of orange juice.  


"D-done. See?" He opened his mouth big for me to look, moving his tongue up, down and to the sides. He had evidently been taught to do that to prove that he'd swallowed the pills.  


"Good! I'm _so_ proud of you, Frankie!" I hugged him tightly.

He smiled, his face so close to mine. I gave him a short kiss and he gave me one back, giggling. I placed my hand on the back of his head, massaging, my fingers getting lost in his long locks. My mouth neared his in slow motion this time. I saw him close his eyes, still smiling. I closed mine and kissed him again, with more passion than ever, pouring my feelings into it and also my fears. What if once medicated Frank didn't feel the same for me? What if he was just confused after all? Maybe I was being selfish, but I needed to seize the moment. I needed to do what I felt without thinking of what might happen later.

Frankie carried on smiling against my lips, trying to follow me though he had clearly no experience. I didn't mind, it was perfect to me. I stopped only to stare at him, he appeared to be shining.  


"W-wow! L-like in movies!" he whispered.  


"Yes, like in movies. You know I love you a lot, don't you?" I pecked at his smooth cheek.  


"Y-yes I do and I l-love you too. L-lots," he nodded, then suddenly seemed far away. "L-look!"  


"What...?"  


"Th-the gnomes are d-dancing! N-no, there! O-over the sh-shelf!" he laughed.  


It wasn't the perfect ending for our most romantic moment, but the poor teen hadn't done it on purpose. Hopefully, I would soon not have to pretend to be seeing what he saw anymore, or at least not so often.  


I made myself more comfortable on the couch and Frankie climbed onto my lap. "I think I won't cook tonight, we can call for pizza later. Now I'm gonna stay here with you watching the gnomes dance." I circled his waist with my arms.  


"Th-they do it w-well, d-don't they? Oh! P-puppy came to s-see them, too!"

An hour passed by and Frankie had fallen asleep. I called the pizzeria and then just stayed there watching him. He seemed to be more relaxed than usual, his expression was calmer and he wasn't continuously moving. The bell rang, but he didn't wake up. He would normally do it right away, startled. I carefully moved him from my lap to the couch to go get the pizza.

"Baby...pizza's here," I called him, caressing his hand. He murmured something and changed his position. "Frankie come on, you have to eat."  


"Uh?" he turned to me, though his hair was covering his face.  


"Food's here, wake up." I tucked it behind his ears. 

He looked at me and smiled faintly, his head thrown back against the backrest. His eyes were quiet, completely crossed. "K-kay."  


"How do you feel?" I asked. I was still afraid of how he'd react to the medication, since we had no idea of which one he used to have before.  


"F-fine, little s-sleepy," he rubbed his eyes.  


"Sure you're ok?"  


"Y-yeah. I...I'm h-hungry too. L-like pizza."  


"Good then, come to the kitchen and we'll eat," I offered him my hand. 

Frank kept his eyes on me, yawned, but didn't move; too comfortable and slightly sedated out of tiredness and being back to the pills after many weeks.  


"You know what? We'll eat on this little table. Let me go for the glasses and juice," I decided. He nodded drowsily.

When I came back and arranged everything over the coffee table, Frankie sat up to get closer to it. He blinked and got visibly pale. "Oops..."  


"Are you ok?" I made him lean back again.  


"Y-yeah, I think. R-room was s-spinning. F-fine now," he told me, the colors returning to his cheeks.

"It's ok, that's normal. Now sit up slowly...that's it, take it easy."  


Besides his pupils not being in constant movement anymore, the other difference I could notice while watching him eat, was that the nervous tic of his head was practically imperceptible. I knew it'd take some time to see more changes, and we wouldn't know how much we could expect until finding out how serious the damage in his brain was.

******  


Not long after we'd finished our meal, when our tired bodies were demanding us to put an end to the day, the phone rang. It wasn't too often that someone called at that hour. I went from irritated to worried in a matter of seconds, impatience replacing both feelings when I knew it who it was.  


"Bob! What's up? Got something?" I shot.  


"Sorry for calling so late, I had to work extra hours today and..."  


"It doesn't matter, it's not that late. Tell me."  


"Woah...'hello' would have been more appropriate, don't you think?" he faked annoyance.  


" _Hello, Bob_. What news do you have?"  


"That's better! Anyway, I'm sorry to tell you I have _no_ news."  


"No news?"  


"No, sorry. This guy did try, but said he couldn't get access to the information. They blocked the computers or something, only the bosses know the passwords."  


"Shit! Well, thanks anyway, Bob. I'll find another way, I just need to think. It'll be easier once I have some other things worked out," I said, watching Frank pat Puppy. I really wanted to know something more about him and his family.  


"Is everything ok?" Bob questioned.  


"Yeah it is, Frankie began to take his meds today, so we'll see how that goes."  


"Did your boss pay you earlier?"  


"Yeah...well, not _exactly_. I'll tell you about it some other day." I knew Bob wouldn't buy my lies. He always knew when someone was lying.  


"Oh, ok. Talking about that, what do you say I come see you tomorrow after work? I have the day off."  


"Bob I told you that..."  


"I know, I know. I won't force you to drink alcohol, you can have a soda. I just miss you, man!"  


"Aww...sometimes you're such a pansy, Bryar."  


"It's good that we've shared too many nights at bars and you can testify that I like girls!"  


"It's true, I have no doubts about it!" I laughed. Bob was really lucky with women, he'd always find himself a pretty lady to have a good time. He said he did believe in love, only that he needed to try many until he found 'the' one.  


"What about you, Gerard? I know you haven't been in the mood, but it's time you get over it. Two relationships didn't work? So what? It's not _that_ bad. They just weren't the ones for you," he simply stated.  


Well, there were many details Bob didn't know, although he was correct: they weren't the right ones for me. Even when thinking about that first person I had loved so much, time showed me that things had happened that way for a reason. I was destined for something different. Then Laura...that relationship had been an error from the beginning. She was a good girl and I had gotten to love her as a friend, but because of wanting to give myself a new chance I had made her lose her time. Now I felt like I was on the right track, with the right person. Full of doubts and fear, yes, but at least sure of what I wanted. Whatever role life had saved for me in Frank's life -whether it was the one I was dreaming of or that of an older brother- I was going to fulfill it the best I could. It was my place in the world, beside him.

"You're right Bob, but now Frankie's my priority. I'm fine the way I am, really," I answered truthfully as the boy came to hug me with a begging look. He wanted me to leave the phone and go cuddle with him. He always gave me _that_ look when he felt sleepy and I was busy with something. That look was even more irresistible now, focused on me. His eyes were the prettiest, no one would convince me otherwise.  


"If you say you're fine, then you're fine! What about my invitation for tomorrow?" Bob mentioned again.  


"Uh...I'm gonna have to pass for this week. I wanna be home early to see how Frankie's doing. Maybe next week, ok? I promise I'll take up your offer soon."  


"Ok, fair enough. See you, man!"  


"Bye Bob, thanks again for trying!"

******  


The following two days were tenser for me than for Frank. I had been constantly checking on him to see if there was any new change, if he was feeling alright or if any side effect had appeared. Frankie, on the other hand, obviously used to being on medication, hadn't shown any preoccupation and would look at me intrigued every time I asked how he felt or similar questions.  


So far I hadn't had any more problems to make him take the pills. He either had them inside of a candy or over a toast with -also strawberry- marmalade.

As I increased the dose, he became a little more controllable. Less stubborn, as Ray had put it. He wouldn't argue or get angry so easily, which was a great thing. He was quieter, though still more active than a 'normal' person. He had been sleeping very well, which was another thing I was thankful for.  


On the bad side, he seemed more apathetic than before for moments, though he still reacted normally to affection. However, he hadn't kissed me again; he hadn't even _tried_. I wanted to convince myself that it didn't mean anything, that he was just slowly adapting to the medication. But I was worried, very worried. I had decided that I wouldn't try anything until he demonstrated that he wanted it. I wouldn't force things.  


Since the day before, his hands had started to shake rather badly once in a while. Even if it sometimes interfered with what he was doing, I still let him try by himself and only helped him when he asked me too.

That Sunday morning, Frank had taken a whole pill for the first time. By the afternoon he was kind of clumsy, but he didn't seem to mind. He had been in a very good mood.  


"G-gee..." he called me. I was about to clean the windows while he watched TV.  


"Yes? What do you need?"  


"D-don't like this. B-boring. H-help me change th-the channels?" Frankie requested, his speech more spaced and unhurried now. He couldn't see the remote control's buttons to know where the ones he needed to press were, so he'd either ask me to flick through the channels until he found something he liked, or tell me to put his finger on the correct button so he could do it.  


"Sure." I fixed the remote -which was upside down- in his hand and then guided his thumb to one of the 'channel' buttons. "Here. And remember, if you wanna go back just move your finger a little to the left and there's the other button, ok?"  


"Y-yeah." He moved through the channels rapidly as I went back to my task. It was a two-leaved wooden window, and each leaf had four glasses. I had barely done one when I heard Frankie talking.  


"N-no I don't l-like it, it's all sh-shit. N-no, I...I'm n-not gonna l-leave it on f-for you all." He got up and turned the TV off. That would happen very often, Frank had no real patience to find something he liked.

He tried to half-run to where I was, but stumbled and fell on his knees and hands. "Oh...f-fell again!" he giggled.  


"Told you not to run!" I helped him up. "Here you are. It didn't hurt, did it?"  


"N-nope. Wh-what you d-doing?"  


"Washing the window, wanna help me? You could do the bottom part of it," I suggested.  


"Y-yeah!"  


"Ok. Let me get other cloths," I said, going to the kitchen to fetch them and back. "Take this one."  


"K-kay." He stayed in his place, staring at me.  


"Uh, what you do is...get it into this bucket, and when it's soaked you have to squeeze it like this. That way it won't drip water on the floor. Then you clean the glass and finally grab this other cloth to wipe the water away. Easy, isn't it?" I showed him the steps as I gave him the instructions. He appeared to be paying attention.  


"Y-yes!"

The first time, he did exactly as I had told him. When he was going for the second glass, he removed the cloth from the bucket as drenched as it was, getting all the floor below the window wet, same as the wall. I didn't say anything.  


"G-gotta get you w-well cleaned, y-yes. 'C-cause I'm the s-super cleaner!" he whispered against the window. I had to suppress the laughter. By the time he finished the remaining glasses, a mini lake surrounded our feet.  


"Very well, Frankie! You did an awesome job, look how the windows shine!" I wasn't lying, they shined. So I did the right thing and congratulated him for what he'd done right, never mentioning the water mess.  


"Y-yay!" he exclaimed happily. "Wh-why can't I clean th-the ones up th-there?"  


"I already cleaned those."  


"B-but...but wh-why can't I?" he asked again. "I c-can reach them if I s-step on the ch-chair like you."  


"Because you can't get on the chair, you could fall."  


"I d-don't care..."  


"I _do_ care, I don't want you to get hurt. You did pretty well, anyway! Thanks for helping me, baby."  


"W-welcome!" he chirped, quickly forgetting about our little argument.  


We went to sleep early that night, since Frankie's appointment for the brain scan was the following morning. I had talked to my boss and she'd allowed me to arrived at the store later. The only thing worrying me was how Frankie would behave, how he would react. He'd probably only had his brain scanned when he was a kid, if ever. Even though the medication had calmed him down a little, that machine might seriously scare him. I could only trust the doctor to know what to do.  
  


	19. Chapter 19

_Doctors want to check me,  
poke me and dissect me.  
What do they expect,  
feelings from a wind-up toy?_

We arrived at the psychiatrist office -more like a small mental clinic to be exact- at 8 am. My mother hadn't been able to come with us, which added to my already nervous state. She was good at calmly managing those situations that would get _me_ desperate. A quality that -I guessed- came together with being an experienced mother, though mine had a little advantage thanks to her profession.

"Hello, Frankie! How have you been?" the same girl that had greeted us the first time opened the door. Instead of answering cheerily as he'd always do, Frankie clung to me and hid his face on my shoulder.  


"Hey...what's wrong, Frankie? You already met her the other day, don't you remember?" I questioned caressing his hair.  


"Y-yeah, I kn-know," he whispered.  


"Then why are you hiding?"  


"D-dunno."  


"Did he start taking the medication?" the girl asked.  


"Yes, four days ago."  


"Well, I'm not a doctor but I see patients all the time here, and many of them are a lot more uninhibited while they're not medicated. Maybe Frankie's naturally shy and it's now showing," she theorized.  


"I think you might be right, thought I liked it better when he'd say 'hi!' to everybody..." I didn't want him to isolate himself from people, to lose a personal trait that was positive. "Come on Frankie, she's a nice girl."  


He raised his head only to look at me doubtfully.  


"You have nothing to be afraid or ashamed of," I told him. 

Frank turned to her without completely letting go of me. "H-hi," he waved timidly.  


"Hi! Hey, I hadn't noticed how big your eyes are. They're _really_ pretty!" she complimented him, as if knowing it was one of his biggest insecurities. Not that she was lying anyway; Frankie had beautiful, huge eyes.  


"Th-thanks..." he said, a little more confident.  


"You're welcome, sweety. You may go wait for your turn if you please. It's the second door to the right. Doctor Goldberg won't be doing the scan himself, but he'll be here to prepare Frankie in a while," the girl informed us.

I walked slowly to accompany and guide Frankie who was dragging his feet, still sleepy and slightly befuddled. After waiting for only five minutes, Goldberg came out of one of the rooms and headed towards us with a friendly smile.  


"Gerard, Frankie...how are you?"  


"We're fine, but he's a little shy today it seems." I looked down at Frank who had once again found shelter against my chest.  


"It's normal, don't worry. He's more aware of reality and that must feel strange after weeks, specially when being away from the place where he grew up. Let's not force him to be sociable for now," the doctor recommended. "Besides that, how has everything gone?"  


"I guess okay. He's been definitely calmer and in a better mood. More...stable. Little dizzy and clumsy, and his hands started to shake again, but that was all expected. I haven't noticed any other side effect, so far," I answered hugging Frank.  


"Good," he nodded. "Follow me into this room and I'll get him ready."  


"Uh...isn't he going to get too scared inside that thing?"  
"Wh-what thing?" the boy asked. At home I'd tried explaining what was going to be done to him, but I had never gotten his full attention.  


"You'll see now..."  


"K-kay." He yawned.  


"He seems rather serene," Goldberg observed. "it might go well. I could sedate him, but I don't think he'd like me doing that any more than being into the machine..."  


"N-no! S-sedate me means sh-shots! I...I kn-know! D-don't let him G-gee please, don't l-let him!" Frank pleaded, grappling my shirt in a fist. He wasn't screaming, though, which was a progress.  


"Shh...don't worry, the doctor said he won't," I hushed him.  


Goldberg led us to a room that was dimmer than the rest of the place. I didn't bother scanning it all; upon entering my eyes fell on the stretcher in the middle, an IV stand beside it with a bag already hanging from it. I tried to keep Frankie looking to the other side, just in case he knew what that was.  


"Frankie...I'd like you to lay here for a while, ok?" the psychiatrist said to him. Frank didn't move, squeezing my hand with such force that it was cutting off my circulation.  


"Don't be afraid, he just wants you to relax while he checks some things," I let out the white lie.  


"K-kay, but no sh-shots."  


"No shots," the doctor promised.

Once Frank was lying down, Goldberg indicated me with a hand gesture to distract him. I ran my hand through his hair and tried to make some conversation. Just when he was talking to me about the tricks he had taught Puppy, I caught a glimpse of Mark with the IV needle in his hand.  


"Look at me and keep talking, he's just feeling your pulse. Oh, and you'll have to show me all Puppy can do when we get home, then!" I didn't allow him to turn his face.  


"Y-you don't pay at-attention to Puppy, that's wh-why you didn't s-see him!" he accused me with his finger. Goldberg smiled while searching for a vein on his other arm. The trembling was making it harder for him.  


"Yes I do! But I've only seen him chasing balls so far."  


"Th-then you d-don't look at him en-enough! H-he's the best!" Frank declared. It was for moments scary how much he loved a dog that didn't exist. If the meds worked as expected, he could stop seeing him soon. What would happen then? Would he remember Puppy? Would he look for him?

Snapping out of my thoughts, I was about to answer Frank when I saw Goldberg introducing the thin needle into the boy's arm. I averted my eyes, terrified of needles myself. I knew I had to carry on talking to Frank so he wouldn't notice, but I suddenly felt nauseous. It was my own aversion plus the fear of how Frankie would react if he saw what was being done to him. He would feel scared as much as betrayed. My sight got blurry and I closed my eyes for a moment.

"N-NO! GET IT O-OUT!" Frankie's scream startled me. He sat up shaking and, with a strong jerk, he freed his arm and sent the IV stand to the floor.  


"Frankie please calm down, you didn't even feel it when he got the needle in!" I tried to push him back down.  


"Y-you _lied_ to m-me...both of y-you! Y-you said no sh-shots!" he cried, jumping off the stretcher.  


"No! We didn't lie to you, this wasn't _exactly_ a shot!"  


"Gerard is right, Frankie. It's not a shot. I just need to get this colored liquid into your veins that will help me see your brain later. It doesn't hurt, I promise," the doctor helped me.  


"D-DON'T PROMISE! Y-you lie...al-always lies," he spat, sobbing.  


"Please kid, I..."  


"N-NO!" he interrupted me and stormed off, closing the door behind him.  


Out in the corridor, I spotted Frank attempting to run towards the entrance. He didn't get too far before his legs failed him and he fell forwards. Even though I didn't think he could get up quickly enough to escape, I hurried to hold him to make sure he wouldn't.  


"N-NOOO, L-LEMME GO P-PLEASE!" he struggled. "D-don't take m-me there..."  


"I just want to get you off the floor right now, we'll go sit."  


"N-NO! T-take me home!" he sniffed. I felt tempted to do so. I didn't want to make him suffer anymore. In his mind we were just torturing him, even if I knew it was all really harmless and necessary.  


"I can't, but we'll go soon." I carried him in my arms and sat on one of the beige couches.  


"N-NOW! W-WANNA GO NOW!"  


"Try to calm down, I'm here and I wouldn't let _anyone_ do something bad to you. Do you trust me?"  


"Y-yes," Frank whispered, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He rested his head on my chest and stayed in silence as I rocked him like a baby.  


"I...I f-fell again," he mentioned after a while.  


"Yes, you did."  


"Al-always fall."  


"I'm always telling you not to run! Are you hurt?"  


"N-not much. Kn-knees hurt a l-little." Frankie wasn't one to complain much about pain when falling, which came in handy considering it had been happening a lot.  


"N-NO! N-not h-him, tell him to g-go!" he exclaimed all of a sudden. 

Goldberg was standing in front of us. "Frankie? I want us to be friends, so I brought you this," he handed him a candy. It had the wrap on and everything, but I knew there was something about it when I caught Goldberg's blink. "I promised I wouldn't do anything painful to you and I'm not lying."  


"It...it's s-strawberry?" Frank asked.  


"Yes." Mark grinned.  


"Th-then I'll h-have it. B-but still an-angry and don't want sh-shots, kay?"  


"Okay!"  


"Argg f-fuck...un-unwrap it, Gee?"  


"Of course." The sweet didn't look like it had been manipulated in any form, Goldberg had probably injected it from the outside. After getting rid of the red wrapping, I gave it back to Frank who ate it right away, luckily not tasting anything abnormal in it.  


"About thirty minutes," the psychiatrist let me know before disappearing into the nearest room.

******  


Twenty minutes went by. Frankie couldn't keep his eyes open and was slurring his words.  


"Wanna go to the other room? There's less light there..." I suggested.  


"N-no no, there's b-bugsss the-there. L-lotsss," he mumbled drunkenly.  


"Bugs?"  


"Y-yeah..."  


"Ok, we'll stay here then."

Fifteen minutes later we were back at the dim room, only this time Frankie was asleep. He never realised that the needle was into his vein again. I, of course, didn't look. When I dared to glance at him, the greenish contrast agent was entering his body. We had then another wait to endure; or I did, since Frank was still passed out.

It wasn't until Goldberg came back along with another man that I took notice that the tomograph had always been in that same room. The fact that I'd failed to see such a big machine was proof of just how tense and worried I was.  


"Doctor Carter is going to do the scan," Mark introduced his companion. 

Everything was settled and Frank was moved to an examination table where a frame was placed around his head. When Carter was sliding the table into the tunnel, Frankie opened his eyes.  


"G-gee? Wh-where are you? G-get this out of m-my head?"  


"I'm here, don't be afraid. Close your eyes and try to sleep again, it'll be easier that way." I held his hand for a moment.  


"I...I'm s-sleepy. V-very." He kept trying to stop his eyelids from falling.  


"I know, that's why you should sleep. Don't worry, I'll stay here and nothing bad will happen," I assured him.  


"B-but this s-scares me. D-don't want.." he babbled.  


"Oh no, don't be scared. This is just...a spaceship," I improvised. 

He smiled groggily. "S-spaceship?"  


"Exactly. Imagine it's a spaceship with a weird computer inside that will take pictures of your brain. It can get a little noisy in there, but that's normal in space machines, isn't it?" Goldberg spoke to Frank softly.  


"G-guess so..." he responded, barely awake.  


"What you need to do is close your eyes and try to sleep, or just remain _really_ quiet. It won't be too long, can you do that? Then you can go home," he instructed him. Goldberg's tone was lulling, it worked perfectly for Frank's sedated state.  


"Y-yes..."  


The table was at last slid into the tunnel and the scanning began. The spaceship idea seemed to work, because Frank endured the procedure pretty well.  


"Here we are, the spaceship has landed." Goldberg announced while Carter took Frank out of the tomograph. The boy's eyes cracked open just a bit, searching for me. 

I got close to the table, grabbing one of his hands in both mine. "I'm here, you were very good."  


"W-wanna go h-home...still s-so sleepy," he rustled.  


"Just a little longer. We'll go wait in the corridor in the meantime." Once again I carried him in my arms and took a seat. 

Goldberg and Carter were going to study the scans and then fill me in on what could be seen. I was praying that the lesion wasn't too serious so Frank would be able to have a normal life. I would take care of him whatever the case, but it saddened me that he had so many problems.  


Finally, the psychiatrist walked to us with a report in his hands. I was glad Frank wasn't awake. At that moment, I thought Mark's face looked as serious and nearly tragic as doctors' would on TV. They always seemed to be about to tell the characters that they were going die soon. I couldn't help my dramatic nature. 

Goldberg sat beside us. "Ok. First of all, the problem is evidently related to the scar on his head. It's not worse than I had imagined, which is a relatively positive thing. The language area is the most damaged. Actually, it's amazing how good Frank can speak and express himself having in mind the importance of the lesion. There are other areas that were also affected. Not directly, but big impacts can cause the brain to shake violently and collide against the skull walls, getting damaged," he explicated and then waited for me to say something. I was feeling _so_ tired, also wondering how Frank had gotten hurt. I couldn't get any word out. "Uh...I think it'll be better for me to tell you the effects rather than the technical matters."  


"Yes, please."

"Judging from the way it looks I'd dare say that, indeed, the injury occurred before the age of two, maybe even earlier. Kids with this kind of brain damage usually present learning retardation. It takes them longer than normal to learn basic things like speaking and walking, among others. However, in many cases the problem becomes less noticeable with time, and with patience and dedication it's possible for some of them to catch up with other kids. Frankie seems to be a smart boy, but he might need some extra support to help him concentrate. The damage might also affect the understanding, both when listening and reading. Do you have any idea of how much education he received?"  


"No, we've never talked about that. I only know -or at least that's what he said- that he can read and write. He won't be able to until he can see better, though, so I'll take care of that very soon. All I've seen him write was his name on a wall with a coin...and on his arms with scissors," I remembered Frank's 'idea of art'.  


"Try asking him about all that, the possibilities vary a lot depending on how early he was stimulated to learn. The more information we have, the more we can help him," he pointed out. "Now back to the medication and Frank's progress: so far things seem to be going alright. You must have in mind that severe cases of schizophrenia are not easy to treat, medication helps improve the patients' quality of life but it doesn't make all symptoms disappear. Most patients still say things that make no sense, mix words or have unexpected or apathetic reactions once in a while. And as I've said, Frank's brain is weaker and some abnormalities can be due to the brain damage. It's hard to tell at the moment, antipsychotics take some time to act to their maximum. I want to see Frankie again in a week to work on a more solid base."  


"Oh...ok." It wasn't the best comment after everything he had explained to me, but it was all my brain could process.  


Thinking of the several impediments he dealt with, Frank was _truly_ amazing. I wondered how his childhood had been, how much help he had gotten, at what age his mother had abandoned him the first time. I had the urge to find out about all that, to know him better. But in order to achieve that, I needed a plan B. 


	20. Chapter 20

_But I see your true colors shining through,  
I see your true colors and thats why I love you.  
So don't be afraid to let them show.  
Your true colors,  
true colors are beautiful like a rainbow._

Before we left the clinic, I called Ray. He'd come for Frankie and take him home so I could go straight to work.  


I waited for him to arrive sitting in my car. Frankie was soundly asleep on my lap, though you could see that the restless morning had left him nervous. He had unconsciously grabbed one of my fingers tightly with his shaky hand. It had started to hurt, but I couldn't free it. I observed his long eyelashes flickering, eyeballs moving rapidly under closed eyelids.  


 "N-no...no en-enough...don't w-want..." he mumbled in dreams. I began to trace circles over his cheeks and forehead with my thumb. He sighed and loosened up.

"Here I am!" Ray's sharp voice made me jump about three feet in the air, my reaction waking up Frankie who gasped and embraced me.  


"Oh, sorry! I thought you had seen me coming, Gee," my best friend apologized, scratching his furry head.  


"It's ok, Ray, I was just distracted. Frankie...it's only Ray, boy, relax!"  


"Ahh...h-hi Ray..." he yawned.  


"Hello, kiddo! Let's go home and I'll make you lunch." Ray opened the car's door for him, but Frank didn't get out or even attempt to move from where he was, holding onto me as if his life depended on it.  


"Frankie? Come on, you know I gotta go to work..." I said.  


"I'll let you choose what to eat, whatever you want," Ray offered.  


"N-no. W-wanna stay with G-gee," he demanded firmly.  


"But Frankie, Gerard needs to work. It's already much later than it usually is when he leaves, so you'll see him again soon."  


"D-don't care. S-staying with him."  


"You and Ray get along well..." I pointed out.  


"Y-yeah but...d-don't wanna s-stay with him t-today!" Frankie cried. 

Ray and I looked at each other, wondering what to do.  


"I can't go home with you now, kid." I told Frank sadly.  


"Th-then take me w-with you?" he smiled, tears sliding down his pale face.  


"I guess I..."  


"Gerard, are you sure you can do that?" Ray interrupted my pondering.  


"Well, Sarah said I could bring him along if necessary. And I honestly don't wanna argue, he's had enough stress for today."  


"W-will you, Gee? P-please please? I...I'll be g-good!"  


"Ok. But only for today, understood? From tomorrow you stay with Ray again as always." I retrieved a tissue from my pocket and wiped his wet eyes and cheeks. He nodded, satisfied. Frank was so similar to a little kid sometimes that it scared me. Similarly stubborn, mostly. It wasn't that bad now that he was medicated, but he had his moments.

After apologizing to Ray for making him drive there for nothing, I headed for the store with Frankie. He was still rather unsteady, so I had to help him get there from the car.  


"M-mine's prettier!" he pointed at the famous mobile that tinkled at our entrance.  


"Well, that's because it was made exclusively for Frankie."  


"Y-yep!"

"Stay here until I think of something for you to do," I made him sit on the floor, since his legs weren't supporting him too well. "Don't try to get up by yourself."  


"K-kay."

Sarah walked to us with a pile of printer paper under her arm. "Good morning, Gerard! I see you have company today."   


"Yes, he had a difficult morning and insisted on coming with me instead of staying with my friend, sorry..."  


"It's ok, don't worry. I said you could bring your brother, didn't I?"  


"Yes, thank you. They had to sedate him to do the scan, I don't think he'll be a problem." I turned to check on Frank, but I couldn't see him. "Where's Frankie?"  


"He just crawled behind the counter," Sarah signaled.

We found him on his knees in front of the small showcase that contained the most expensive supplies. The glass door had been recently cleaned and was almost like a mirror. Frankie appeared to be highly amused, raising a hand and moving it around slowly, as if giving the twin image time to follow him.  


"Sh-shadow!" he whispered. I could see him perfectly reflected there, but I guess all he saw was a shadow.  


"Sarah, do you know of a place I could call for food? We came here right from the clinic and Frankie needs to have lunch," I suddenly remembered. I'd packed a sandwich to eat later as I did every day, but I preferred Frank to have real meals if possible.  


"I have a little kitchen here in the back room and was preparing something for myself. It's at least enough for two. Do you like noodles with cheese, Frankie?" she asked him. This woman was one in a million.  


"Frankie..." I called him, since he hadn't heard Sarah.  


"Y-yeah? W-was playing with the sh-shadow that f-follows me," he said. It wasn't the right moment for explanations, so I played along.  


"I see, but Sarah asked you if you like noodles with cheese." I knew he did, but wanted him to answer.  


"Y-yeah, a l-lot!"  


"Perfect! Then come with me." She took his hand. "Gerard, I'm sorry that I don't have enough for you today. One of these days I'll invite you and the other boys for lunch."  


"It's not necessary! I must warn you that Frankie's a little messy when he eats sometimes."  


"I don't mind," she shrugged. "Go to your section and don't worry about your brother, he'll be fine."

"B-bye!" Frankie waved as they disappeared through a narrow sliding door.  


'Brother'. That word sounded so weird, so out of place considering my feelings for Frank and -at least until four days ago- _his_ feelings for me as well. Were those feelings still there? The thought was sad and I was refusing to address the truth, but Frankie had been acting more like my little brother than anything else. I had to be prepared because if that was the case, if that's how he felt and what he needed, I would have to accept it and adapt. For him.

Around forty minutes later -during which I had to assist the biggest number of annoying clients in a row- Sarah and Frankie came back. He kissed my cheek and sat on the big, quilted chair the woman had brought for him.  


"You look happy, I guess you liked Sarah's food."  


"Y-yep, she's v-very good. A...a l-little better than y-you," Frank commented.  


"Oh, really?"  


"Y-yeah, really!" he giggled, and it was music to my ears.  


"Did he give you any trouble?" I asked Sarah.  


"Nah, he just got a little angry when I tried to help him..."  


"Because of his hands?"  


"Yes, they were shaking so I thought of feeding him, but he _firmly_ made it clear that he could do it," she related, chuckling.  


"Sorry, I forgot to tell you that detail. Frankie likes to eat by himself even if it gets complicated, he always finds the way."  


"Well, that's a good thing. In this case he grabbed the fork with both hands and it seemed to work."

The rest of the day went better than I would have expected. First, Sarah made Frank sit beside her and hand her things from a box for her to place them on the shelves. None of them were breakable, so it wouldn't matter if he dropped them once in a while. Frankie was happy to feel useful and acted visibly comfortable around my boss. However, he became shy every time anyone else tried to speak to him.  


Later, as not many customers were showing up, we took a break to share some cookies while Frankie sang a few songs for Sarah. They weren't whole songs but fragments, and the repertory went from childish ones to punk rock. When the show concluded, she clapped her hands and Frank made a reverence that almost got him falling on his head.  


At the end of the evening, Sarah declared Frankie her friend. She said he was a very sweet, good boy and I should bring him there some other time.

The _exhausted_ boy crashed on the bed as soon as we arrived home. After using the opportunity to have a quick shower, I called Ray to tell him about the brain scan. My friend had grown very fond of Frankie -even if he usually gave him a hard time- and was upset with the news. Poor Ray even felt bad for being too insistent or slightly losing his temper a couple of times when he'd tried to explain things to Frankie.

"Ray, it's ok, we didn't know what else was wrong with him. I've had those moments after a bad day when you just...run out of patience. I once screamed at Frank because he wouldn't understand that dirty dishes needed more than water to be clean. He was drying them without having used detergent at all." I recalled. "I guess it's not easy to put ourselves in Frank's place, we must remember how complicated it can sometimes be for him to understand simple instructions."  


"Yeah. What makes it hard to imagine is that he's obviously smart. Like, for example, he knows _a lot_ about animals and can remember some things people have said word by word!"  


"Yes, he's a smart boy and has his talents," I agreed. "but also limitations that we'll have to deal with. Sometimes he just lacks concentration. It's like...he hears the words but doesn't comprehend them."  


"I know...I'll try to be more patient. He needs us to be, and I won't die from repeating things twice or more," Ray said.  


"Ray, you've been great. I don't know what I'd have done without you, man! I'm sure Frankie thanks you too."  


"It's also a good experience for me, believe me. I never thought I'd be able to do this, to take care of someone like Frankie. I surprised myself and it's _so_ rewarding, he's a real sweet boy." I could hear the smile in his voice. And I knew the feeling, I knew it so well. When you saw Frank laugh or talk lively, happy to have someone's full attention, all the bad moments were swept away.  


"He is..."

"Oh, Gee...were you able to find out something about the kid?" Ray inquired.  


"No, Bob got some people try to get into the police's databases, but none succeeded."  


"Ah..." the line went silent for a while. "Have you tried phone calls?"  


"What do you mean?" I had no idea what he was talking about.  


"Well, I've been thinking about something: Frank's last name -if it's correct- is not a common one. Maybe you could grab a directory and call all Ieros?" he explained.  


"And what would I say to them?"  


"Uh...you could ask them if they know an 18 year-old called Frank?"  


"Frankie's been locked up almost his whole life, apparently. If he has any other relatives they most probably don't know him," my negativity showed up.  


"Maybe some do! You lose nothing by trying," positive Ray counteracted.  


"You're right...I'll think about it."  


"It's a good chance. I know you don't like the idea of calling strangers, but I can't think of any other option right now."  


"Neither can I, honestly. I'll consider your idea," I said. Could that be my plan B?  


After hanging up, I turned the TV on and leaned back. I wasn't really paying attention to what was being shown on the screen. It was just random images flashing before my eyes while I dived in my own thoughts about that day's news, about Ray's idea, about my first payment that I'd get the following day and if it would be enough. I hadn't even made the calculations, I hadn't had the time or the guts. But mostly, I was thinking about Frank. Just Frank. Frank and how I was missing his lips.

"Hi, baby!" I greeted him as he came walking slowly and carefully. His chocolate hair messy and curly, his bright eyes reddened with sleep. He was holding Puppy against his chest, his hands shaking but never losing the proportion. The dog was always the exact same size in his mind.  


"P-puppy woke m-me up. L-licked my face," he laughed. "And...and th-the little people are h-hungry. S-said if they can e-eat with us." He hadn't mentioned the little people in weeks, so I found it ironic that he did again now that he was medicated. It had only been five days of that, anyway.  


"Well, they don't eat too much so I guess they can," I assented.  


"Yay!" Frank acclaimed and, previously leaving Puppy over the coffee table, he threw himself onto me and kissed my cheek. He then separated his body from mine and sat next to me, though his arms lingered on my neck; his pupils as close to his nose as physically possible because of the proximity. I was a statue, he got me bewitched.  


"L-love you very...v-very much," he whispered in that tone I hadn't heard in days. That tone no one would believe Frank could use. That tone that reminded me that he wasn't a kid.  


Inches diminished. Perfect pink lips approached me. I waited without doing anything, without moving. But just when I thought I would get back what I had been missing he receded, sitting up at the edge of the couch and looking at his feet.  


"Hey, what's wrong Frankie?" I moved some hair off his face. 

He blushed. "I...I w-was gonna...w-wanted...no...b-but...no...m-maybe you d-don't want to," he rambled, nervous and confused.  


"What did you want to do? Tell me..."  


"N-no...'cause...maybe y-you..."  


I made him look at me. "Please, tell me."   


"K-kiss your m-mouth," he murmured, now completely flushed.  


So that had been the problem all along. Frankie was more conscious and that had turned him shyer and more insecure, but his feelings were intact. If he had only known what his words meant to me, how they liberated me from the oppressing weight in my heart.  


"That's no problem, sweety. Come here." I indicated him to sit on my lap. He did, but seemed still unsure.  


"B-but..."  


"Of course I want to kiss you," I added. He grinned, his arms around my neck again.  


And I kissed him. Softly and tenderly, delicately but needy. His lips accompanied my lips a lot easier this time, but his smile was present as the previous times. I let my hands slowly run along his back, testing, stopping by his waist. He shuddered, and a short sigh escaped his mouth.  


"You ok?" I asked him. He nodded, catching his breath. 

My fingers brushed his dark waves of hair aside and I deposited mini kisses on his neck, following a way to his jaw and back to his lips. He giggled and sighed again, clearly enjoying it. Suddenly, I felt the tip of his warm tongue against my lower lip. Frankie drew back, laughing behind his hand.  


"Oh!" I exclaimed amused. He must have learned that watching movies.  


I entwined our fingers and kissed him once again; the tip of _my_ tongue now running along _his_ lower lip. More giggles, and the butterflies in my stomach were having a party. He let his tongue come out and meet my thankful one. We rubbed them for a while and Frankie never stopped giggling, for moments adding to that a short whimper. As a temporary conclusion, we sealed the moment with one more meaningful kiss, as if we had agreed on that, and stayed with our foreheads together.  


Frankie smiled widely and then brought his index finger to his lips. "Shh." he hissed. "It..it's our s-secret." 


	21. Chapter 21

_And he starts wondering what it's like to be liked by everyone,  
and like everyone be just like anyone,  
and just wants to be so just like anyone._

Frankie's words transfixed my soul. He seemed to understand more than I had thought. He remembered what I'd said and repeated it in such a sweet way that I felt like an ogre. After what had just happened, one would suppose that there would be no problem in telling him we could be boyfriends. However, I was still too afraid of what my family and friends would say, or more of what they could _do_. It wasn't shame what stopped me, but the fear of losing Frank. I didn't intend to keep it a secret forever, yet I needed time to think of _how_ to tell them.

I smiled imitating Frankie's 'silence' gesture, my index finger across my lips. "I'm gonna go make dinner now, be a good boy." I gave him an extra kiss before getting up.

"Al-always," he nodded. "D-don't forget the p-plate for the l-little people!"  


I watched Frankie's little battle over his dish of boiled potatoes with eggs and mayonnaise. In vain he tried to get something with his fork, only succeeding in pushing the food around with it and sometimes even missing the plate. Annoyed, he sighed and left the fork aside, resorting to eating with his fingers.  


"Want me to get you a deeper plate and a spoon? It could be easier..." I offered.  


"N-nope. I c-can," he grinned, stuffing his mouth.  


"Go ahead, then." I didn't mind him eating like that, so I brought my attention back to my plate.  


I let Frankie do things in any way he liked or managed as long as it couldn't get him hurt. I had bought him a fancy purple straw to drink his beverages, so he didn't need as much help when his hands weren't responding well. At most, I had to assist him to get the straw into his mouth.  


Frank knew he was different; he knew he was special, as that woman Grace had called him. Nevertheless I always tried to make the differences less noticeable because I didn't want him to feel inferior. Whenever he encountered problems to do something, I'd find a way for him to do it by himself the same. Sometimes he just adapted when facing complications, like it happened with the food case.  


He was an incredible boy, so easy to love. I already knew I could spend my whole life with him. I was ready to take care of Frankie forever, to make him happy the same way he made _me_ happy. Because he did, specially after showing me that he truly felt something deeper for me. He had apparently always known what he was doing when he said he liked me, when he said he loved me; when he'd innocently seduce me and kiss me. I didn't know how far our relationship could go, but at the moment I didn't care. I'd enjoy what we had and take it step by step.  


I kept in mind that would have to be careful. At night, before going to sleep, I never tried to go farther than some little goodnight kisses and then cuddling. The fact of being in bed together made the situation feel bolder, and I didn't want to push things much. What we had was perfect to me, and seeing Frankie happy was all that mattered.  


**********  


"Hi!" Frankie exclaimed when I got home the following day, jumping on my back while I was closing the door. Then I noticed the white marks his hands were leaving on my black t-shirt.  


I walked to the couch and carefully placed Frank there. His face and clothes were white, too. He got up and took my hand, dragging me behind him.  


For moments he walked as if he was drunk, and he almost fell twice as he guided me to the kitchen, but I held him. I was sure his equilibrium would get better with time; he probably used to take a different medication and his body needed to assimilate the new one. At least Frankie wasn't complaining at all, everything seemed normal to him.  


"What happened here?" I questioned what greeted me in the kitchen.  


"W-we been making c-cookies!" Frank said. 

I saw that my mother was there too, though she hadn't arrived when I left that morning. The kitchen was kind of a disaster: the whole dark floor was full of flour, and cookie dough was covering the table and dripping from it. Ray was wearing a blue apron, his afro also adorned with both flour and dough.  


"Frankie said I'm a human cookie now," Ray chuckled, shaking his head.  


"I thought it'd be a good activity for him..." my mom shrugged timidly, probably responding to my wide-eyed expression. "He seemed bored."  


"Oh, I agree. Good idea, thanks mom and Ray!" I let them know I wasn't angry. "Now, if after eating these delicious cookies I get some help to clean this...then we'll go to the supermarket."  


I had finally gotten paid for real, though everybody thought it'd happened weeks ago. I hoped they wouldn't ask where the money had come from now.  


"M-means I can g-go?" Frank asked wishfully.  


"Of course!"  


"Then I better go too..." my mother decided.

"Oh! Gerard," Ray spoke while trying to get rid of everything that was entangled in his curls. "I called the oculist as you asked."  


"Thanks, Ray! I knew you had a better memory than mine, I kept forgetting."  


"Frankie has an appointment this Friday, I wrote it down and left the paper near the phone together with the address."  


"Wh-what's an oc-oc...that?" Frankie inquired.  


"It's an eye doctor, he'll help you see better. You'll most probably have to wear glasses like Mikey," mom explained to him. Hopefully, Frankie's main needs would be fulfilled soon.  


"Ahh..." he spaced out and took a cookie out of the pile.  


*********  


Frank had never been in a supermarket before. You could tell by how amazed he looked as he eyed everything with his mouth hanging open.  


"Wow it...it's b-big!" he declared, stumbling towards the fridges.  


"Frankie! Don't touch anything, let Gerard pick what you both need." My mother took hold of the boy and made him walk in between her and the shopping cart. That way Frankie had something to steady him and his hands occupied at the same time; but she was the one really pushing the cart.  


"Wh-what do the l-little signs s-say?" he pointed at the huge fridge by his side.  


"Well, different things. Yogurt, milk, cheese..." I named. "...and the prices."  


"Ahh. C-can we get ch-cheese? I l-like cheese!"  


"But this is cheese to spread on toasts or cookies."  


"Oh...th-then no. W-want real cheese."  


"I'll get some as soon as I see it," I promised.  


Many more times Frankie wanted to know what the signs said, several times he tried to touch everything and my mother had to tell him to stay quiet; but he was really happy to see something new. That happiness only left him every time people would look at him -some even stared- or just stand too close. He would then hide his face against me and stay like that for a couple of minutes.  


"T-too many p-people...d-don't like so m-many people," he mumbled.  


"Don't worry, they won't do anything bad to you," I calmed him. 

He detached himself from me, but brushed his extra-long fringe forward so it covered his face.  


"Frankie...get your hair out of your face, honey," mom demanded, yet in a kind tone.  


"N-no, they'll s-see me!"  


"They see you the same," I said.  


"B-but they don't s-see _my face_ ," he clarified.  


Without a word, I took him to the clothes section. I chose a red cap and put it on his head, making sure it kept the hair out of his face. "Next time you do that, you're getting a haircut." I menaced him, near to losing my patience.  


"N-NO!" he screamed.  


"Then show your face, kid! You're very pretty, so you have nothing to be afraid of," my mother assured him.  


"B-but...the...my...wh-what if someone l-laughs?" he doubted.  


"If someone laughs, I'll kick their asses," I whispered my answer in his ear.  


He hugged me and whispered back. "L-love you."  


"What's all this secrecy?" mom got curious.  


"Uh...nothing important. I told him that if someone makes fun of him I'll kick their asses and Frankie...he said 'kick them hard'", I lied. My mother just chuckled.  


"G-gee...can I go w-with them? W-wanna make f-friends," Frank asked. 

I glanced to where he had pointed and saw two boys about 15 years old talking to each other. Something told me it wasn't a good idea; but as my mother and I looked at each other questioningly, I considered that it wasn't fair to stop Frank from being sociable when he felt like it.  


She escorted him there and stayed rather close. I observed the scene from far away, too worried to continue with my task of grabbing the needed goods.  


The kids were laughing when Frankie approached them. He greeted them and they seemed to be conversing for a while. More laughs were heard and my blood was boiling. My mom raised a hand, telling me to wait. Suddenly, we saw Frankie jump into one of the kids throwing him to the ground. When we got there, he was biting that boy while the second one had Frank by the hair, his cap having fallen off. A woman -who I presumed was the mother of one of the kids- showed up cursing. I didn't pay attention to her, I was trying to separate Frankie from his rival.  


"That savage attacked my son!" were the only words I could make out.  


"He's not a savage, he's mentally ill," my mother tried an apology.  


"Then keep him away from public places," the woman retorted.  


" _What you just said_...was out of place and idiotic," mom spat angrily, making the other shut up.  


"FRANK, STOP!" I demanded.  


"B-BUT TELL HIM TO L-LET GO OF MY H-HAIR!" he screamed. Once the kid complied, Frankie stood up and kicked his leg before he could get on his feet.  


"Oh my God, I'll call security!" the boy's mother cried out furiously.  


"Don't call anyone, we'll leave. Anyway it was _their_ fault. They made fun of Frankie. I heard them laugh at the way he walked, at his eyes and how he speaks. So shut up, you have _no right_ to complain." My mother took Frank's hand and walked away. 

I picked up the cap and followed them to the next section. Again, I admired my mother.  


**********  


Once we were home and my mom had left, Frankie went to the bedroom and, reaching into his backpack, he retrieved his teddy bear. It was the first time since I'd met him. So far his 'puppy' had seemed to replace it. He hadn't stopped seeing the dog yet and had even 'fed him' that same morning, but he hadn't talked so much about him lately.  


I wondered what had triggered that sudden need for his toy. Was it what had happened at the supermarket? Did those kids remind him of the ones at the institution who'd make fun of him?  


He turned the TV on and sank into the couch quietly, hugging the shabby bear tightly and without speaking a single word.  


"Are you ok, Frankie?" I asked.  


"Y-yeah," he simply responded. Unwillingly, I decided not to bother him for a while.  


Since we had brought prepared food, I didn't need to cook. I thought of what I could do to kill time and Ray's suggestion came to my mind. What if I made those phone calls? I had always been rather shy. The thought of calling people I didn't know to ask them about a boy most of them probably didn't know either, wasn't something I was desperate to do. But trying wouldn't hurt me.  


I seized the directory from below the coffee table and went right to the 'i' section. I skipped the pages until I spotted the last name 'Iero'. With a pencil, I made a small mark next to each person. I sighed in relief when I saw there were only six Ieros there and I nervously grabbed the phone, determined to do it.

The first two calls were futile, for no one answered. I drew crosses as a reminder to try those again later.  


"I know no one by the name of Frank," said an unfriendly man voice on the other side of the line. Name number three was ticked off.  


For call number four a woman answered, a young one from what her voice told me.  


"Uh...hello. Do you know an 18 year-old boy named Frank?" I repeated my question.  


"Well, my uncle and cousin are both called Frank, but one's 50 and the other's 27. So I guess I can't help you," she replied politely.  


"Thank you anyway. Bye!"  


The fifth Iero family only included a 5 year old Frank. So far, I was thankful that no one had hung up on me.  


When I was about to call the last name from the list, I noticed Frankie sitting in front of the wall. From where I was, I couldn't distinguish what he was doing. I went to check, alarmed that he could hit his head -something he hadn't done again since medicated. But no, he'd been drawing on the wall with a coin again, scratching the light paint and revealing the much darker, brown red that had once decorated it. Highly noticeable.  


But it wasn't the doubtable style-sense of who used to live there before that froze me. It was what Frankie had drawn: a big heart -or at least something that resembled one- inside of which it read 'Frankie and Gee' in shaky, irregular capital letters.

Frank perceived me looking and turned to me smiling, proud of his work. I was deeply moved, yet at the same time worried.  


"Oh my God, Frankie...that is...so sweet. But...why so big, baby?"  


"'C-cause this b-big I can r-read it too!" he explained.  


"You know we'll have to cover it, right? Otherwise we won't have our secret anymore." I hoped I wouldn't hurt his feelings.  


"Y-yeah, I know," he nodded understandingly. He surprised me too often. "B-but only if someone c-comes!"  


"Only if someone comes."  


******  


Later, I called the last Iero. The man told me with a painful voice that Frank was the name of his recently deceased father. I apologized, feeling like shit. Why was it that every Iero family seemed to have a Frank? I went back to the first name, and this time a woman answered. And old, tired voice with an Italian accent.  


"Sorry to bother you, ma'am. Would you happen to know a boy called Frank? Frank Anthony?" I let out the question. I heard her make a sound at the back of her throat. "Do you know him?"  


"How curious. It's the name of the little bastard that my son accepted as his. Sad coincidence..." she spoke.

A weird sensation filled me. "How old is he?" I pushed. 

She took a while to reply. "Well, he'd be 18 if he was alive, but he died when he was 4. Maybe it was better that way, I didn't want my son maintaining a kid that most probably wasn't his. That girl was a whore, and I'm sure the child was retarded or something," the woman commented. Hearing all that told me that she could be the right person, as much as the facts didn't exactly made sense. Dead at 4?  


I was going to ask more, but the woman appeared to have a sudden need to spill it all out. Some old people had that habit of not being able to stop once they'd start talking. Sometimes, for example, they would relate their whole life to strangers on the bus. Maybe this person lived alone, with usually no one to converse with.  


"That girl broke up with my son when the baby was born, so he'd only see him once in a while. But one day he managed to snatch the kid and he brought him here for some hours. I don't know what for, I didn't want to see him. That creature was 2 years old and hadn't even attempted to walk. All he did was cry, not a single word." That last thing she said convinced me even more, thinking of what the doctor had told me about Frank's brain damage.  


"When should I call to find your son?"  


"He doesn't live here anymore," she answered.  


"Would you tell me where he lives?"  


"No idea. After that single time when I saw the little rat my son had to...eh...leave town for two years. It was when he came back that the bitch told him the kid had died. Then my son disappeared. I was told he started a band somewhere and they travel to play, but they're not really known. He's never called me again." She sounded annoyed already.  


"Could you give me some kind of information to find that woman? The kid's mother?"  


"Why do you care?" she questioned rudely.  


"Oh I...work in a hospital, and we found something about the kid in a database. I have some things to ask her. Your son's not gonna get involved in anything, I promise," I lied. I had been doing that a lot lately.  


"I gave you enough information already, young man," she stated and hung up. _Just when I was on the track._

I tried the second name of the list just in case, but found nothing of help. 

"FUCK!" I screamed angrily, walking past Frankie -who stood in the middle of the corridor- and into the kitchen. 

No qualms this time. I opened the fridge and my hands gripped a can of beer greedily. Opening it and starting to drink from it didn't take me much longer. I knew I should have never bought it, but I was weak and had thought that one wasn't bad. It made me feel safe. In my reasoning, this single can assured me that I'd have something to resort to if I got too desperate, instead of running out to maybe buy something worse.  


"Wh-what's that? C-can I t-try it?" Frankie asked childly, sitting on a chair beside me. His voice made my frustration relent.  


"No baby, you can't drink from this," I banned him. 

This held him back for a second, but then he surprised me by kissing my lips and licking his afterwards. I couldn't believe how sexy he looked doing that.  


"T-tastes...funny..." he shuddered. "Ew."  


"You know what? Yes, it _does_ taste funny. Let's do something..." I got up and threw the half-full can into a trash bag, taking a can of Coke Zero out of the fridge this time.  


"Y-yeah, gimme!"  


"Wait..." I added the straw. "Here you are."  


"Th-thanks!"

"Frankie...have you been to school?" I inquired while we shared the Coke. "You know how schools are like, don't you?"  


"Y-yeah, s-saw them in m-movies. D-didn't go t-to one. No," he shook his head.  


"But you know how to read and write..."  


"Y-yes. A...a m-man came and t-teached us." He made me smile.  


"It's _taught_ us," I corrected him.  


"Oh, y-yeah...he t-taught us."  


"How was that?" I was willing to know.  


"W-was in the s-same room where we a-ate and most kids w-were younger than m-me. And...and h-he teach...t-taught us how to w-write and r-read and then c-calculations but I was b-bad at it. C-couldn't do them."  


"That was it? He didn't teach you anything more?"  


"T-to other k-kids, but n-not to me. One...one d-day he t-told me to go to my r-room 'cause couldn't learn an-anymore," he recalled. Not even in that place they had the patience?  


"Why?"  


"I...t-told Grace and she as-asked him." Frank chewed on the straw distractedly. "H-he's not only c-crazy, he's also r-retarded," he added monotonously, his voice sounding kind of different.  


"That man said that?"  


"Y-yeah. I...I'M N-NOT! J-JUST SPECIAL, F-FUCK!" he shouted, punching the table.  


"Of course you're not, baby. That man was an asshole, he knew nothing. Shh, we won't talk about that anymore, it's ok." I held him and kissed his cheek.  


"G-grace taught me s-some things with b-books...'bout an-animals," he whispered.  


"I'll buy you a big book with lots of pictures and information about animals and we'll read it together when you can see better. You'd like that?"  


"Y-yes!"  


The phone rang, interrupting the moment. I felt that it was important to answer, though. 

"Yes?"  


"We talked earlier...about that Frank kid?" it was the old woman. Why was she calling back?  


"Yeah, what...?"  


"I've been thinking. It sounds like that whore might be in trouble from what you told me?"  


"Well...I'm only in charge of calling and trying to find out, but I guess she might be if something's not too clear about the kid's death." I made up, catching the woman's intentions.  


"That's what I thought! And I'd actually _love_ to get her in trouble. Got a pen? I'll tell you where she used to live. I don't think she's still there, but someone might help you find her. All I know is her first name: Linda."  


"Ok, tell me," I tried to hide my excitement, paper and pencil in hand.

The woman hung up right after telling me the address. The place was approximately a three-hours ride away. If that had once been Frank's home, it was a real mystery how he ended up in a mental institution so far from it. But I'd find out.  


	22. Chapter 22

_Born into somewhere unseen and unknown,  
just like a wonder so small and alone.  
Take me away into your innocent dreams,  
maybe I'd see what it all means._

If I had followed my impulses, I would have left right then and gone to the address the woman had given to me; but I took a moment to think instead. That day was discarded, since it was already night. If I went the following day after work, it would be night by the time I got there. That wasn't a good idea idea if I expected to find someone who could help me; it's a fact that people trust strangers even less at night. Therefore I decided that the best alternative was to wait until the weekend.

I only hoped that my anxiety wouldn't lead me to do stupid things. I was finding it hard to not give in to some alcohol once in a while. Even with just a little beer that wouldn't get me drunk -like a moment ago- I was _still_ putting myself in risk and Frankie together with me. I needed to be more careful, because my actions directly affected the boy.  


"G-GEE!" Frank screamed, touching my shoulder. I had totally forgotten that he stayed in the kitchen while I was on the phone.  


"What's it, baby?"  


"C-come to the k-kitchen...there's b-bugs! K-kill them?" he pleaded and pushed me in that direction.  


"I'm coming!"  


"O-open it slowly," he referred to the door, which he had left closed. I complied and we both entered, Frankie hiding behind me.  


"Well, I see no bugs...but I smell pee." I smirked, following my nose to the trashcan whose bottom was, in fact, filled with the yellowish liquid.  


"P-pee? N-no, no pee. B-bugs! The-there, silly, not in the f-fucking trashcan!" he pointed under the table.  


"Ok, let's see."  


"K-kill them, Gee! If...if you d-don't...then bats w-will come too...to e-eat them. D-don't want b-bats here!" he hurried me while he tried to get on a chair.  


"Oh, no no...I'll kill them, but you better not climb anything. Wait here." I lifted him and sat him on the table.  


"K-kay."  


After 'killing the bugs' with a broom, I stood in front of Frank and kissed his lips briefly. "Now tell me, what happened to the trashcan? You should have told me you needed to pee, even if I was on the phone, it doesn't matter." I wasn't reprimanding him; but since it seemed that problem wasn't going to change, I wanted to insist on him telling me when he needed to go to the bathroom. 

Frankie frowned, evidently confused. "I...I didn't p-pee there. I kn-know where the b-bathroom is!" he defended himself.  


"Of course you know, you just get confused sometimes, that's all. See the pee here?"  


"It...it w-was Puppy! Gu-guess I forgot to t-take him to the p-patio. Yep. I'll s-slap his ass. B-but not h-hard, he's a b-baby," he went on, waving his hands around.  


"Puppy's too short to reach the trashcan..." I remarked. 

He swung his legs and thought for some seconds. "Y-yeah, you're r-right. So...I d-did that?"  


"Yes, baby..."  


"D-didn't know! I...I th-thought it was the b-bathroom. R-really, Gee...d-don't be mad?" he bit his lip, twisting the hem of his t-shirt.  


I threw my arms around his small body and kissed his cheek repetitively. "I'm not mad at all."    


"R-really?" he looked up with wet eyes. It had been his first time accepting that it _could_ have been him who peed in the wrong place. Not exactly admitting it, though, since he didn't know how it had occurred.  


"Really. I know you didn't mean to do it, don't worry about that," I calmed him down. "But...try to remember telling me when you need to go? It doesn't matter if I'm busy, I'll leave what I'm doing and guide you, ok?"  


"K-kay. I'll t-tell you." He grabbed my face and kissed me sweetly. "Y-you're very nice, l-love you!"  


"And I love you too, _very very_ much!" I replied. "Before cleaning that I'm gonna prepare your special candy."  


"C-can I have t-two? One...n-non special?" he asked me.  


"Well, we're having dinner soon but I guess you can for today." I was unable to say 'no' to those eyes.

I made sure that he had swallowed the candy with the pill and then gave him the promised extra one. Next, I emptied the trashcan into the toilet and washed it in the sink. Frankie was silent, maybe still a little worried because of the accident.  


"G-gee..." he broke the silence.  


"Yes?"  


"C-can we make c-cookies some day? Y-you weren't here wh-when Ray and D-donna and I m-made them. W-wanna make c-cookies with you!" he said happily.  


"I'd love to. But you'll have to teach me because I've never made cookies," I told him. 

Frank got serious. "I...d-dunno if I r-remember," he whispered.  


"Next time you see my mom, tell her to write down the recipe. You'll have your glasses soon, so you will be able to read it to me."  


"Y-yes! We c-can do that," he agreed grinning. It was good to see him so interested in something, so happy to be able to do it. I could make cookies with him everyday just to see him smile like that.  


******  


As days went by, Frankie's hallucinations became more sporadic. Puppy seemed to be the most resistant one, although he didn't remember the dog all the time; only when he was too bored or about to go to sleep. Then he'd call him and hold him in his arms, or place him on the bed at our feet. Deep inside I was hoping he would never stop seeing his imaginary pet. I was afraid of how he could react.  


On the other hand, Frank's improvement had a downside for me. I was suddenly having trouble to keep him entertained. He used to spend a good part of the day talking to the gnomes and the little people, or arguing with the voice in his head. If not, he'd be amused watching butterflies on the ceiling or ladybugs that -according to him- walked along the walls. That without mentioning the bad hallucinations. Now he seemed to have a lot of free time, and in many occasions I'd find him just sitting on the floor or the couch looking at nothing, like in a trance. It wasn't easy to get him out of that state, so we tried to avoid that by talking to him or thinking of things for him to do. There weren't many given the fact that his sight was very poor.  


Our relationship was slowly growing. We kissed randomly, cuddled as often as possible and had make out sessions on the couch. Frankie had gotten really good at kissing without losing that innocence and tenderness. He still smiled all the time while we kissed and giggled while our tongues danced together. I always stayed focused on not going too far while touching him; I didn't want to scare him. 

From what Frank had told me about his boyfriend, they'd only _say_ they were boyfriends but had never really done anything. When we were together, hr didn't do much more than caress my hair, entangle his fingers in it, or just stay with his arms around my neck; yet he seemed to enjoy my soft touch.  


Another thing I noticed was that he hadn't touched himself anymore since he was on his meds. I knew that one of the side effects could be lack of sexual desire, but I didn't give that much thought. Sex wasn't something in my mind when I thought of Frankie. At least for the moment, it seemed out of place. I couldn't say I had never imagined it, _I had_ ; but I knew it wouldn't happen any time soon. Maybe it would _never_ happen -it was a possibility. Either way I would wait. I would never try anything without being totally sure that he was prepared for it.

******  


It was Friday already, and by the afternoon I took Frankie to the oculist. The office was at the man's house, a pretty chalet with terracotta brick walls and a colorful garden.  


"G-gee, you t-told me you'd b-buy me f-flowers to plant at h-home," Frankie reminded me.  


"I know, I will soon, I promise." That was something that I definitely wanted to do with him, so I would get to it as soon as I could.  


While we were waiting, I was told that Frankie needed to have drops applied to dilate his pupils. I said I would do it myself and though it wasn't easy to convince him to stay quiet, I finally won. Even if he looked really weird -his eyes almost completely black- when the drops worked, he didn't seem to feel anything. I had heard people see blurry with dilated pupils, but maybe it had always been like that for him, because he didn't complain or comment about it.

When the ophthalmologist indicated us to enter the room, Frank gasped and clung to me. The rather young man -not more than 40- was extremely tall and had a strong voice, which intimidated the kid.  


"Frank, right?" he asked. "I'm David."

"W-wanna go h-home," Frankie whispered to me.  


"He likes to be called Frankie," I told the doctor. "Would you give us a minute?"  


"Of course," David assented. 

I took Frank outside again and, sitting him on my lap, I tried to explain everything the oculist might be doing to him and that there was nothing to be afraid of. I also made him think about how many more things he would be able to do once he had his glasses and could see better. He finally didn't seem so afraid and agreed to go back into the office.  


"Sorry for the wait, David. He's a little scared," I apologized.  


"Don't worry, I understand," he said while preparing some instruments. "It doesn't hurt, Frankie."  


"B-but...but you h-have to see m-my eyes?"  


"Yes, I need to examine them."  


"N-no...don't w-want! M-my eyes are all w-weird and f-fucked up. D-don't look at th-them!" he closed his eyes tight. 

The doctor and I smiled.  


"I'm an eye doctor, I've seen a lot of people whose eyes are like yours, it's normal to me."  


"R-really? N-never seen one!" Frank opened them wide again "C-can you f-fix them?"  


"I'm not sure, anyway you shouldn't be ashamed of it."  


"K-kay." He seemed convinced this time, knowing that there were many cross-eyed people.  


"Oh, doctor...it can be a little hard to make him follow instructions, hope it's not a problem," I commented.  


"Not at all. I've worked with some of Doctor Goldberg's patients before, so I know how to proceed with them. He called a couple of days ago and told me about Frankie. He also assured me there's no damage in the sight area of his brain, the problem is most probably just genetic."

Frankie behaved very well during the examination. Sure, he needed to be told some things more than once, but the doctor was patient. The boy was interested in knowing what each instrument was for and asked a lot of questions, reminding me of a child again. It got a little frustrating for him at one point when, as much as he forced his eyes, he couldn't distinguish most of the letters from the chart. Then David began to try different lenses on the machine and Frank's mood lightened back. He applauded, squealed and screamed joyfully every time he was able to read a letter. It was amusing to see.  


"Ok, we're done Frankie!" David said. 

I nodded, waiting for the report on Frank's sight condition while he ran to investigate the office.  


"Frankie has high myopia and astigmatism. It could have been early stopped and corrected had he worn glasses when he was much younger. Now correction can be very slow -if even possible, although thanks to the glasses he'll be able to at least see close to normally. Laser surgery is an option but he's still too young for it, it's advised for people older than 25," he explained.  


"What about his eye deviation?" I asked.  


"That has to do with the muscles of the eyeballs. I guess the problem always existed and got worse after years of forcing his eyes to see. It can be treated or operated in some cases, but I wouldn't recommend it now. I think it's more important to control his sight problem; two more years and he'd be nearly blind. Make sure Frankie wears his glasses _all the time_ so it doesn't get any worse," he continued.  


I swallowed, almost choking. "I understand, I will."  


David wrote down the prescription and the address of an optician he recommended to get the glasses done. Not wanting to waste any more time, that's where we headed afterwards.  


******

The optician was a woman in her fifties, not even nearly as nice as Goldberg or David. I didn't care about her personality though; as long as she was good doing her job it would be alright.  


She read the prescription and informed me that for such a high graduation like Frank needed, there were two options of eyeglasses: one was the classic bottle-bottom glass, which was rather ugly and made eyes look tiny. Then you could also have the same graduation in a much thinner, not distortive glass. However, that second alternative was considerably more expensive.

I observed Frankie, who was dragging his feet along the store looking at the numerous frames exposed. People could be cruel, I knew that and had witnessed it. What's more, there were already many reasons for those idiots to discriminate Frank or laugh at him. Why add a new one when it could be avoided? Some assholes made fun of kids just for wearing glasses -my brother knew of that. Condemning Frank to wear horrid, thick-glassed ones was almost a crime. My dad's watch would have to stay in the pawn shop for a little longer.

"Thin eyeglass, please," I made up my mind. "Which frames can he choose from?"  


"Whatever he wants," the optician answered shortly, not even looking up from what she was reading. "And tell the kid to keep his hands off the windows."  


People who had to interact with others everyday should at least _try_ to be more friendly...  


"Well Frankie, choose the frame you'd like for your glasses," I told him. 

He smiled and clapped his hands, quite enthusiastic. I hoped the enthusiasm would last him for when he had to wear them.  


After wandering through all the displays, he tugged at my t-shirt and pointed to his selection. "Th-this one!"  


I stared at the biggish, black, thick rimmed frame. "Are you sure, Frankie? Don't you prefer some thinner, colored ones?"   


"N-nope...want th-this!"

I communicated the decision to the woman, who reluctantly took the frame out of the display and gave it to Frank to try it. Whatever doubts I might have had about Frank's choice, disappeared when I saw him wearing it. The thick black rim perfectly framed his beautiful hazel eyes and amazingly, it made his little face even cuter.  


"You look very handsome," I whispered in his ear. 

He shuddered, giggling. We left after being told that the glasses would be ready for Tuesday.  


******  


It was late at night. Since we weren't too tired, we had been lying on the bed just talking. When Frankie turned his back to me and I heard no more from him, I assumed he had fallen asleep and grabbed a magazine to read while I waited for sleep to come.  


All of a sudden, I felt his lips behind my ear, kissing lightly. Caught by surprise, I dropped the magazine. When I rolled to look at him, he had returned to his previous position and I could hear him giggle. I got closer and, supporting myself on an elbow, planted kisses from his shoulder to his temple. He shivered and laughed, but remained quiet. I kissed the side if his mouth, hovering above him, yet not touching him. He looked at me sleepily but inviting, my lips drawn to his while my hand petted his hair. He responded to the kiss and hummed softly. My elbow gave up and I fell to the bed, my chest against his back. I wrapped my arm around his waist, intending to turn him over to face me. Frank jumped and sat up.  


"N-no...I d-don't think I wanna d-do that."  


"Frankie, what's wrong baby? Do what?" I questioned worried. 

He looked scared. "D-do...that...that th-thing boyfriends do...m-make love?" 

He left me perplexed. "What? No! I...wasn't going..."  


"G-grace told me n-not to accept th-that again. N-no. N-not again," he whispered.

Had I understood well? Frankie'd had sex? Besides the fact that I had never thought it possible, the way he said it and what Grace had told him made me think something was wrong. Frank was sitting on the pillow, his knees folded against his chest and his head down. He seemed embarrassed.  


"Frankie...you've had sex? Or...made love?" I rephrased my question, thinking he might not understand otherwise.  


"I...on-only once. W-with my b-boyfriend," he replied.  


"But...didn't you tell me he wouldn't even want to kiss or hold hands?" I was confused.  


"Y-yeah. H-he always said n-no kissing or h-holding hands. B-but then once h-he said we'd do s-something boyfriends did, th-that we'd m-make love. I...I d-didn't know if I w-wanted, didn't kn-know how it w-was but he said 'w-we're boyfriends, so we _h-have_ to'," he recalled, and I let him talk. "T-told him it h-hurt, but he s-said it'd pass and didn't w-want to stop. Th-then felt kinda g-good but...but I d-didn't like it an-anyway. H-hurt a l-lot and...I w-was bleeding."

He was barely sniffing while telling me all that. I made a fist of my hand, fighting back tears.  


"Did you tell Grace?" I tried not to show how concerned I was. That guy had practically raped him and Frankie talked about it as if it was normal.  


"N-nope. J-john said not to t-tell 'cause everybody would kn-know and make f-fun of us. H-he cleaned me up and...and p-put some cream...d-down there. Ev-every time I said it h-hurt he was n-nice and put the c-cream and said 'g-gonna be fine'," he went on, saying the guy's name for the first time.  


"How did Grace find out, then?"  


"J-John wanted to d-do it again one d-day and I d-didn't, so I g-got angry and s-screamed and Grace h-heard. W-we were n-naked and she kn-knew. And...and I t-told her we had d-done it before. Th-then they took my b-boyfriend to an-another place, d-didn't see him any-more," he spoke messily. "'D-don't let anyone d-do that to you a-again'. She s-said that."

I was left frozen. I felt cold despite the high temperature. I couldn't speak, I didn't know what to say.  


"Ar-are you mad? I l-love you Gee. D-don't like John an-anymore. B-but...Grace said n-not to do _th-that_. N-no." 

I heard his voice and raised my eyes. He was looking at me, waiting for me to tell him something. He wasn't crying. He didn't realise the meaning of what he'd just confessed to me. The poor sweet boy was just afraid that I would be mad at him for not wanting to make love!  


I _needed_ to say something.


	23. Chapter 23

_So nobody ever told us baby  
how it was gonna be.  
So what'll happen to us, baby?  
Guess we'll have to wait and see_

I desperately grabbed Frank's face, wanting to get his main concern out of the way. "Oh no baby, I'm not mad!"  

"N-no?"  


"No, Frankie, I'm not. I wasn't expecting us to make love, I wasn't even _thinking_ of it. I just wanted to kiss you, I swear." I caressed his cheeks.  


He gave me a confused smile. "K-kissing is o-okay. I...I l-like kissing a l-lot."

Leaving his face, my hands took his shaky ones in a firm grip the way he liked it, obliging them to stay quiet. Sometimes he even came to me and ask for it, sitting on my lap and usually falling asleep.  


"Frankie," I looked him in the eyes. "you know what John did was wrong, don't you? No one should make you do that if you don't want to."  


"B-but we were _b-boyfriends_...he s-said boyfriends make l-love."  


"That... that's not making love, that's _having sex_. Two people who love each other and take the decision together _do_ make love. It wasn't making love if you didn't want to do it," I explained, but Frank didn't seem to understand much. I knew I wasn't good at explaining and this situation had caught me off guard.  


"I d-didn't know 'cause...'cause I d-didn't know how it w-was. B-but he said we w-would make l-love and it was o-okay..." he continued.

I wasn't sure of how much I should tell him. He probably wouldn't even grasp the meaning of rape. What's more, I didn't want to add any other fear or trauma to his list.  


"Baby...did Grace say something more to you about that after she found out?" I asked.  


"Uh...h-he said. S-said he was my b-boyfriend. I...th-thought would be g-good but...b-but...dunno. N-no." Frankie appeared to be distracted, lost.  


"But did _Grace_ have a conversation with you?" I repeated.  


"I...I d-don't remember. G-grace...she t-talked to me but I d-don't remember. T-too weird...w-words...n-no dunno wh-what else...I..." he battled with his thoughts, jerking a hand off my grip and slamming it against his temple. I realised I was pushing him beyond his brain's limits.  


"Shh, no...easy, don't force yourself. I'm sorry Frankie, you don't need to remember anything else. Come here, close your eyes and try to sleep." I motioned for him to lie back on the bed. He positioned his head on my chest, his right arm across my waist. The tips of my fingers covered his mouth when he tried to speak. "No more speaking, you need to rest. Everything is fine, you're fine and I'm fine. Just...know that I'll never ever make you do anything if I'm not completely sure that you want it too. _Never_ , so don't be afraid, please trust me. I'd never hurt you, Frankie."  


"P-promise?" he murmured.  


"I promise. I love you, kiddo." I kissed the top of his head, moving to his lips when he looked up smiling warmly.  


"M-muah!" he giggled, then let his eyelids fall. "G-good night, G-gee."  


"Good night, doll."

He was dreaming in no time, but I couldn't sleep. I was pondering about the reason why some things happened. Some people would say 'you get what you deserve' or 'you harvest what you sow'. I was convinced that was bullshit -or at least it was in _many_ cases. What could Frankie have done to deserve all that? What wrong could that poor boy have done before even being born to receive blow after blow? What punishment could that angel deserve; he, who didn't even complain about his luck?  


Maybe it was for the best that he didn't understand the gravity of what John had done. He didn't need any more worries to mess up his mind. On my part, I'd do my best not to scare him. I would pay extra attention to my actions and make sure I didn't cross the line. I liked to make him feel good, loved, wanted. Touch, kiss, caress him; because I knew that he enjoyed that when I saw him smile and sigh contently.

I wouldn't lose sight of his eyes, his gestures. He was like an open book sometimes, you could read it all by looking at him. All he couldn't say, all the words his head couldn't process, it was all there nonetheless. You only had to learn to see it.  


We would be fine. If destiny had put Frankie on my way, if it had made us fall in love with each other, now it _had_ to make things work. This ought to be something good to stop all the shit life had thrown at him and all the shit I had thrown upon myself.  


"We'll be fine," I voiced, and shut up my mind for the night.  


******  


I had to work for some hours on Saturday, so my trip was postponed for Sunday. My initial idea was to go by myself and leave Frankie with Ray; but the boy had eavesdropped us both speaking about it and said that he wanted to go too. He'd actually only heard that it was going to be a rather long ride, which had been enough to spark his interest. The problem was that I couldn't go alone with Frankie. I didn't know what I would find there, _who_ I would find there. I didn't want Frank to be seen until I was certain that he wouldn't be at risk, so I needed someone to stay with him inside the car.  


I wasn't going to ask Ray, he'd done too much for us. However, he noticed me doubting when Frankie was begging me to take him. My afro-haired friend guessed what the inconvenience was and offered to come with us. He said it was decided and didn't let me argue. Frankie's celebratory dance around him left me with no more words to say.

******  


While I was trying to leave the house somewhat clean before departing, the phone rang. It was Ray with a preoccupied voice. He apologized, telling me that his dad had _just_ let him know that he would be needing him that afternoon. Ray couldn't say no to him if he wanted to keep the job, yet he was very concerned and felt like he was failing me. I assured him it wasn't that important.  


Still, the option of going there with no one to keep an eye on Frank didn't appeal to me. The only other possibility was my mother, but she would be working all day.  


"Who else...who else...think!" I spoke to myself, rubbing my temples.  


"Is...is h-he in your h-head now?" Frankie asked worried "N-not in mine an-anymore!"  


"Eh? Oh...no baby, there's no one in my head. I was just...thinking aloud." I smiled.  


"Ah...'b-bout what?"  


"Ray can't come with us, neither can Donna. So I'm thinking of who else could."  


"Ah. C-can Puppy c-come?" he semi ignored me.  


"Yes, no problem."  


"Yay!"  


"Oh, I have it!" I suddenly exclaimed, startling Frank. I got up and dialed the number.  


"Bob! Oh, good that you're home! Do you have something to do the rest of the day?"  


"Uh no...did you finally decide to accept my invitation? Will we go on a day-long bar rally or something?" he chuckled.  


"Shut up, I told you that wouldn't happen!"  


"Ok, ok! What then?"  


"I found out something about 'that' and I need to go somewhere to know more. But...it's a 3 hours ride, it'll take me almost the whole day and I don't have anyone to leave Frankie with..."  


"Want me to stay home with the kid?"  


"No!" I hurried to say. He might be my friend, but he wasn't the kind of guy I'd trust to take care of Frankie all day. "I was gonna ask you if you could come with us. You know, to stay with him in the car if needed and so..."  


"Yeah, sure! I'm pretty bored and have nothing to do until late at night so...that's the best offer I've had so far. Do I move my ass over there now?" he sounded excited.  


"Yes, please, wanna leave as early as possible."

******  


"Where's the crazy little buddy? You've never let me meet him!" Bob blurted out as soon as he crossed the door. I hoped Frankie hadn't heard him.  


"Shhh! Don't you _ever_ call him that again, understood?" I told him, not really joking.  


"Oh...sorry. I didn't mean it in a bad way, I swear!"  


"I know, but it's not nice and he hates it. Let me find him, he was here a minute ago." I looked around until I spotted Frankie hiding behind the couch. "Hey, what are you doing here?"  


"N-nothing," he murmured.  


"Then come here and meet my friend Bob, he's going to come with us." I lent him my hand to get up.  


"N-no..."  


"Come on..." I lifted him from the floor and walked towards Bob, Frank moving backwards hugging my waist.  


"I don't bite, kid!" Bob touched his head.  


"He's been shyer since he takes his meds," I explained.

Frank turned to him slowly. "H-hi," he muttered.  


"Hi, Frankie! Please to meet you. Gerard talks a lot about you," Bob tried to start a conversation, seeing as Frankie was still reticent. "I like your hair." He ruffled it. "Maybe I should let mine grow, what do you think?"  


Frank let go of me and stood in front of Bob, seeming to examine him. He tilted his head to the right and then to the left, his eyes wide and attentive. Then he squinted, getting even closer and touching Bob's face with both hands. The blond one stayed quiet, intrigued. Finally Frankie sat on the couch, laughing. "Y-you'd look kinda f-funny with l-long hair!"  


"Yeah?" Bob scratched his beard.  


"Yes Bob, I think Frankie's right." I patted his arm. "I'll leave you both alone for a while so you can get to know each other better. I'll go change and get some last things ready."  


"Ok!" he nodded.  


When I came back minutes later, Bob was sitting on the coffee table in front of Frank. They were singing something I couldn't get, playing one of those games where you had to clap your hands at certain parts.  


"It seems you're getting along?" I laughed.  


"Yeah, this kid is fun! He's just so small and cute...can I have my own to play with?" Bob replied with a stupid grin. I knew he wasn't joking, though. He could be really immature at times.  


"Bob...Frankie's not a toy."  


******  


We still had half the way to go and my head already felt swollen. I was starting to regret having called Bob. He and Frankie hadn't stopped talking, singing and having tickling wars. I joined them for a while -minus the tickling of course- but then I got tired. They didn't, though.  


"Gerard...how long till we arrive?" Bob questioned. I couldn't believe it.  


" _Bobby_...Frankie asking that once and again is one thing, but _you_?"  


"Well, it's hot here!" he protested.  


"Sorry, buddy...the air is broken and I don't have money to get it fixed. Besides, if you both stayed quiet it wouldn't be so hot."  


"Oh, and what's a car trip without some fun? Frankie agrees!"  


"Y-yep, it's f-fun!" I saw him smirk through the rearview mirror.  


"Ok...open the windows more, but make sure Frankie doesn't stick any part of his body out of the car, ok?"  


"Yeah..." Bob said tiredly while quickly lowering the windows.  


"I mean it Bob, he's _very_ capable of." I sent him a serious look.  


"Uh yeah, sorry, understood."  


******

It was a while after that when nature called, and I decided to make a stop at a gas station. 

"I need to go to the bathroom and get my hair wet to refresh myself, too. You coming?" I asked them both.  


"Nah." Bob shrugged, causing me to roll my eyes. Didn't he want to get out of the car so badly twenty minutes ago?  


"Frankie?"  


"N-nope."  


"Sure you don't have to pee?" I didn't want any accidents in the car.  


"S-sure. Gee...d-do you think P-puppy's ok?" Frank had said that he couldn't find his dog when we were about to leave. I'd told him I saw him under our bed and that he probably didn't want to go because it was cooler in the house. Then we had left before he could think more about it, but I knew we may have some trouble when back home.  


"He is, don't worry. Ok, behave while I'm gone... _children_." I specially glanced at Bob.  


The visit to the gas station appeared to have taken me more than I thought. By the time I came back, they had evidently left the car to buy some snacks and sodas and were now eating voraciously, spreading crumbs all over the backseat and the floor.  


"BOB!" I screamed, opening the door. "Frankie's supposed to eat lunch in a while! And normal sodas make him hyper."  


"Come on, G-man! Live a little, it's just for today!" He hit the back of my head playfully.  


"G-man! Th-that's so f-funny!" Frankie laughed, spilled the Coke he was drinking. 

I was resigned. "Ok...have something for me? At least we won't have to lose time stopping again to eat."  


"Of course." Bob threw me a pack of Doritos and a soda -that I didn't catch.  


"Thanks!"  


"But you let me drive now," he demanded.  


"I don't know, Bob, it's only a little more than an hour until we're there, so what for?"  


"I just want to, please? My car's been dead for months," he insisted. 

I finally accepted with the hope that things would be quieter if he wasn't in the back with Frank. However, when I raised my head after picking up my can, I saw Bob opening one too, only that it wasn't a soda. 

"What the fuck? Oh, no no. If you're driving, you're _not_ drinking."  


"Gerard, you've turned into something worse than my mom! It's only a fucking can!" he excused himself.  


"I don't care, not here." I reached for the beer and snatched it from his hand. I was going to throw it out of the car but, tempted by the smell, I drank from it.  


"Now _that_ is unfair! Didn't you say you had stopped drinking?" Bob said indignant.  


"Fuck off, it was just some sips. And you're the one who's gonna drive, aren't you?"  


"C-can I t-try it?" Frankie waved at me.  


"No!" Bob and I retorted at the same time.  


"K-kayy...evil m-men."  


"Fuck..." I ended up getting rid of the beer, tossing it through the window.  


******  


"I think it's here, right?" Bob stopped and pointed at a small house with cracked white paint, a little ahead from where we were and across the street. 

I checked the paper with the address. "Yep, it is. I don't want to visit that exact house, anyway. What if she still lives here? I don't think she'd be much help," I meditated. Then I got distracted by Frankie who had his head out of the car, looking around intensely with an odd expression on his face.  


"Frankie, do you recognize this place?" I tried, pulling him inside just in case a car passed near us.  


"Uhm...d-dunno...yeah. M-maybe. Yes, m-maybe I do?"  


"Bob, keep him inside for now," I instructed him, getting out of the car and heading to one of the houses next to Linda's. They all looked pretty similar, although that one was better taken care of. 

A woman around her middle thirties, with short black hair, answered the door. "Yes?" she waited for me to talk, but my nerves were acting against my will.  


"I...eh...am looking for a woman called Linda. I was told she lives around here?" my voice trembled a little.  


"She doesn't live here anymore, moved like ten years ago, you're...late."  


"Well really, I only need to know some things about her...or better said about her son, Frank."  


"What? Oh no...I can't help you, sorry. Her son died when he was a little, so I don't know what you could need to know," she spat, attempting to close the door. 

I stopped it with my shoe. "But he's not..."  


"Get off, I don't want problems. Eh...try two houses from this one, that woman will be leaving the country soon, so I don't think she'll mind talking to you." She closed the door violently, barely giving me time to withdraw my foot. 

Why did she look afraid of talking? Why did the fact that the other person would be leaving soon make things any different? Oh well, I'd try.  


The other woman was just a little older. Her hair was light brown and curly, and she was wearing no make-up. As she opened the door I could see lots of big cardboard boxes piled up inside.  


"Hello, how can I help you? I don't wanna buy anything..."  


"Hello, ma'am. Don't worry, I'm not a vendor," I told her. "First of all, I want you to know that I don't work for the police or anything similar. I just need information for a good cause, I promise."  


She looked at me as if I was crazy. "You're not telling me what you want, boy."  


"I need to know something about who used to live next door, Linda. Your neighbor two houses from here told me to talk to you..." I explicated.  


She shook her head. "Oh, what a coward...I don't understand what she's afraid of, that bitch Linda's been gone for a long time now." It'd all started to slightly scare me. 

"What can you tell me about her son Frank?" I asked the question once again. 

She seemed nervous, but also kind of sad. "The poor kid died when he was...no more than 4, I think."  


"Stop that! I know he's _not_ dead!" I lost my patience and spoke without thinking. 

She gasped, surprised. "Oh, you do? Do you happen to know where he is, too? How do you...?" she trailed off.  


"Yes I do, but I can't say anything else without having some answers first."  


"Ok..." she sighed, sitting on a long bench on the porch. "I like you, so I guess I can tell you what I know."  


I sat next to the woman, anxious as I had never been before. "Anything you can tell me will be helpful," I encouraged her.  


"Linda moved here when she was 17, alone. Her mother had kicked her out of her house, or she'd escaped, not sure. We overheard it from a fight she had with a friend that came looking for her, but we couldn't make out the details. It was something about drugs. We'd talk to her once in a while, but we never became real friends. As soon as she got here she started to hang out with the worst pack. Then this guy Tony began to frequent her house too often, though he wasn't the only one. A friend told me he was on hard drugs too, and he eventually became a dealer."  


"Was his last name Iero?" I interrupted her.  


"Uh...I don't remember, really. As I said, my friends and I weren't too close with them. I know his family was Italian."  


"It's ok, continue." I smiled politely.  


"News run fast here, and a few months later everybody knew she was pregnant. She stopped seeing her gang and would speak to us more. She told us she'd broken up with her boyfriend because he wouldn't quit drugs and that wasn't good for the baby. Honestly, I don't think she had quit them either, maybe she just needed an excuse."  


"But that guy gave the kid his last name..." I noted.  


"Oh, I see you're well informed. Well yes, Tony accepted Frank as his, even if Linda probably didn't know herself who the father was. She only allowed him to see the baby a few days a month, though." She took a moment to drink from a bottle of water I hadn't even realised she had in her hand. "Linda's 'friendship' with us didn't last much. Even pregnant she was dating other guys, and she never talked to me again until one day when Frank was...5 months old maybe."  


"What brought her to do it again?" I felt that it was awkward to let her speak alone.  


"She knocked at my door desperate, I'm sure she was drunk or on drugs -maybe both. When I followed her to her house I saw her baby on the floor, bleeding and unconscious. She explained that she was changing his diaper and left to get something. The poor creature fell from a tall table, on his head. He had a huge cut. I wanted to call an ambulance, but she disconnected the phone. Just...ripped off the cord. I tried to get out to ask for help, but she pushed me to the floor and told me to stay there with her. I washed the baby's head, stopped the blood as much as I could and bandaged it. Also applied some ice because it had swollen up, but Frank wouldn't wake up. Almost two hours later he did, then Linda took him away from me and urged me to leave."  


I couldn't even breathe as she told me all that; I felt a rush of pain inside me. 

"Oh my God...and you never called the police or anything? No one denounced her?"  


"Believe me, I wanted to. But she menaced me, told me that if I opened my mouth my family would get it. She knew many dangerous people, you know?" She seemed ashamed. I nodded, not having a better answer. "I don't know how that kid survived. Anyway, Frankie was never too normal after that. We'd hear him cry practically the whole day, and he wouldn't pay attention when someone talked to him like he used to. Months went by and he wouldn't say a word, not even _half_ a word. I advised her millions of times to get him checked at the hospital, but she'd just tell me to shut the fuck up, that the kid was ok and was just too young. Tony noticed something wasn't right too, though I don't think she ever told him what had happened. When he left, Frank was more than 2 years old and he still wouldn't attempt to speak or walk..."  


"Do you know why Tony left?" I interrogated her, feeling like a cop.  


"Yes...he was in jail. Something drug related for sure, he was there for two years."  


I wanted to know more. "But what happened in the meantime? Why was he told that Frankie died?"   


"A year after Tony disappeared, Linda's relationship with the kid got worse. She had never been the type to have patience with kids, and even less one with problems. She'd scream to him all the time and though I never _saw_ her doing it, I'm afraid she maybe did something more than that. The child wasn't easy to deal with, but who could blame him? When he was 4 and had finally learned to walk well enough she...got rid of him," she let out, clearly moved by the memory.  


"Any idea of where she took him?" I asked, hopeful.  


"Yes, it's like a...public home or shelter for kids with any kind of disability. The people there don't ask many questions, they say those children are better there than in the street and that's all that matters. We saw Linda leave and come back without the boy, so she _had_ to tell me and the other woman you met what she'd done with him. She knew we wouldn't buy her lies, but Tony did. When he was released, she told him Frank had died."  


"How didn't _you_ tell him he hadn't? I know you said you were afraid but..." I was aghast, I couldn't understand how they could keep something like that unsaid.  


"Around that time she was dating a new guy who worked for the government and had 'connections'. He was the one who got Linda a fake death certificate to show Frank's father. He also threatened us in person, said we could lose everything. They lived here together for four more years until he was promoted and they moved."

"Oh my God...oh my fucking God..." I couldn't stop repeating that.  


"I...I'm aware that we did wrong, but we were too scared. Can you understand...?"  


"Uh...I just realised we haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Gerard, sorry, I'm too nervous." I seriously couldn't believe I had been so rude.  


"I'm Clare and what I told you is all I know..." she drank from the water bottle again.  


"That was a lot, just one more thing...could you tell me where that shelter is? Maybe they know something..."  


"Sure, but they won't receive you today, they're closed on Sundays," she pointed out. The search would be longer. "Do you have something to write it down on?"  


"Yes." I got out my notebook and a pen and took note of the address.  


"Now it's _your_ turn: what do you know about little Frankie and how?" she requested. 

I bit my lip, not knowing if I should talk. Then I heard someone scream.  


"Frankie! Come back here, boy!" Bob came running behind him. Frank fell a couple of times but got up as nothing. 

He got to me and hugged me. "M-missed you, Gee!"  


"Sorry, Gerard...I got distracted just one minute and he opened the car's door!" Bob said panting.  


"Oh! This is Frankie? _The_ Frankie?" Clare asked. I nodded.  


"Wh-who's her?" Frank whispered in my ear. He was sitting on my lap and had hidden his face as soon as he heard the woman talk. 

I signaled for her not to answer. I didn't want to tell Frankie anything until I collected more definitive information and decided how much it would be good for him to know.  


"She is...an old friend of mine, Clare"  


"H-hi!" the boy looked at her.  


"Hello Frankie, you're _so_ pretty!" she touched his cheek. Frank recoiled a little, blushing. "I'm glad he's at least fine and healthy," she added eying me.  


"I'm doing all within my reach for him to be as fine as he can," I said.  


"You know? Now that I see him I have no more doubts about a certain thing," Clare spoke in a cryptic manner. "His eyes are _exactly_ like Tony's."  


"Wh-who's Tony?" Frank blinked. His attentive moments were rather inopportune sometimes.  


"Tony...is a boy who used to live in this neighborhood," Clare replied.  


"Ahh...and wh-why you said m-my eyes are l-like his? Th-they're crossed t-too?" Since the oculist had told him that there were many people with his problem, he was waiting to find one.  


"No, but he has the same eye color and shape."  


"Y-you know? G-gonna have glasses s-soon!" Frank commented with more confidence.  


"Yes? That's cool!" she brushed a lock of hair out of his face.  


"Y-yeah. I...I c-can't see well. C-can't read n-nothing, but n-now I will!" he went on cheerfully.  


"Then I'm sure you're gonna love your glasses. And you'll look very good with them." she smiled, though I could see pity behind that smile.

"Bob, could you take Frankie to the car again for a while?" I presumed Clare had things to ask, and I didn't want to speak in front of the boy.  


"Sure!"  


"N-no! S-staying here!" Frank refused.  


"Come on, Frankie! I saw a place where we can buy some ice-cream." Bob stood in front of him and crouched, offering his back.  


"Y-yeah! I...I want i-ice-cream!" he changed his mind and climbed on Bob.  


"Please Bob, don't let him fall and don't go too far!"  


"Won't and won't!" he waved.

"He's so sweet..." Clare breathed out as soon as they left.  


"He is..."  


"Is he...oh damn, I know this word is hideous. I don't want to sound offensive, but I can't think of any other way to say it..." she rambled. "He's like...retarded, right? Sorry again, I..."  


"It's ok, I know you didn't mean it wrong. And no, he's not. Well, he _does_ have some mild brain damage -which I now know the cause of, but it's not that serious."  


"Only _mild_? He's a lucky boy, I thought he wouldn't even survive that day...he was so small and his little head was so swollen and bleeding..."  


"Considering that, I guess he was indeed lucky. Nowadays he has the speech impediment and difficulty to learn or understand certain things. He's childish, yes, though that might also have to do with the fact that he was in a mental institution most of his life until a little more than a month ago, when I found him," I mentioned.  


"You _found_ him? Where?"  


"In the street. Linda got him out of the institution and then abandoned him," I clarified.  


"Oh God...how could she...but why was the kid there to start with? From what you said there was no reason enough to..."  


"Well, there kinda was. Frankie has a more important problem that's not _directly_ related to the head trauma. He's mentally ill, schizophrenic. He's medicated, but it's a severe case."  


"Oh poor kid, but it's obvious that you've taken good care of him! So, you found him and took him with you?"  


"Yes, I just felt like I _had_ to. Anyway, I'm interested to know if he has any more family apart from his bitch of a mother, and why he was in a mental institution at the other side of the country..."  


"I wish I could help you more, but I don't know about that. I never knew where Linda's mother lived or saw any other family visiting her," she said, pensive.  


"It's fine, I'll pay that shelter a visit soon."  


We talked for a little longer and then Clare gave me a telephone number where I could find her once she moved. She wanted me to communicate with her if I found out something more about Frank. She also handed me some cookies for him before we left.  


******  


"So?" Bob inquired when I got into the car and started it. I tried to ignore the hand shaped marks of ice cream on the headrests.  


"So...I got some answers, convinced myself even more about certain people's assholeness and added a next stop to my search."  


"W-want ice-cream G-gee? S-still have s-some!" Frankie shoved the cone in front of my face. His innocence and sweetness made me feel angrier about what I'd learned. 

I smiled at him and gave the ice-cream a try. "Mmm, it's good!"  


"Then...we're going for the next stop now?" Bob questioned.  


"Nope, just home. It'll have to wait until next weekend, the place's closed on Sundays."  


As I drove, I thought of how someone could make a movie out of Frankie's life and his 'family'. And I was sure there was still a lot more waiting to be revealed.


	24. Chapter 24

_When you were here before, couldn't look you in the eye.  
You're just like an angel, your skin makes me cry.  
You float like a feather in a beautiful world.  
I wish I was special, you're so fucking special._

"Frankie, put your head inside!" I heard Bob tell him.  


"N-no, it's hot and I l-like the air!" Frank retorted.  


"Frankie do as Bob says, I'm serious," I intervened, now and then spying them through the rearview mirror.  


"B-but...no...d-don't want!" he whined, trying to reach the window again.  


"I know you _don't want to_ , but it's dangerous. There are a lot of cars passing by and I'm sure you like your head where it is, don't you?" It was hard sometimes to stay cool at his stubbornness. What's more, after learning all I did from that woman, I wasn't in the best state of mind to be patient.  


"Come on kid, Gerard's right!" Bob's strong arms held him in place, but Frankie wouldn't give up so easily.  


"D-DON'T CARE, L-LEMME!" he twisted his body and kicked.  


"FRANK, ENOUGH! If you even _try_ to stick your head out one more time I'll close all windows, understood?" I said firmly. 

There was silence followed by sniffling. I turned my head and saw him staring at the window, tears falling down his cheeks.  


"Y-you screamed to m-me. And...and c-called me _Frank_. Y-you're angry, d-don't like it."  


"Nah, Gerard's not angry, he's worried about you getting hurt. Come on, let's sing some songs?" Bob invited.  


"N-no. I l-like when G-gee kisses me, not wh-when he gets an-angry at me," Frank uttered in a low voice, though not low enough as to not be heard by me -and therefore Bob.  


"What does he mean by...?"  


"Frankie, I'm not angry, really," I spoke before Bob could finish his question, hoping I would distract him at least for the moment. "I just don't want anything bad happening to you. I'm sorry...don't cry, please. We can sing together, the three of us!"  


"K-kay," he answered softly.  


Once we began to sing random songs, Frankie seemed to cheer up and Bob appeared to forget about what Frank had said. Hopefully, the boy's unintentional hint would not bring any trouble.  


******  


"Bob...you're overexciting him," I warned him, listening to Frank's chocked laughter.  


"Don't be a party pooper, Gerard! The boy's having fun," he replied, mercilessly tickling Frankie.  


"P-please I...ahhh s-stop! Hahahahahaha s-stop!"  


"It seems to me he's telling you to stop, already!"  


"Ok, ok! The Master of Tickles will allow you to keep your life for today, young lad!" Bob announced. I got a glance of Frankie sitting up, breathing heavily.  


"Here, have some water." I passed him a bottle. "Drink slowly."  


"Let me help you hold it, better now..." Bob could act as immature as Frankie for moments, but he was being really nice to him. "Gerard, I was gonna ask...why do his hands shake like that?"  


"It's because of the medication, a side effect," I explained.  


"Oh..."  


"H-hands always d-do this," Frankie shrugged. "D-doesn't hurt."  


"Well, that's good to know," Bob said. I bet he was as surprised as I got day by day at how naturally Frank reacted to those problems that seemed such a big deal to us. It was kind of funny that while people usually felt sympathy -or even pity- for his condition, he just talked about it like it was nothing and smile right after saying the meds made it better.  


******  


The first thing Frank did when we got home was look for his pet. I waited in the living room, afraid, expecting him to come back crying because he couldn't find it and thinking of how I'd manage the situation. To my relief, he reappeared looking totally calm. He said Puppy was still under the bed and he didn't want to wake him up, so he had left him a plate of food there.  


I was aware, however, that it may be just a matter of time until Frank's mind stopped projecting the dog. I knew how important Puppy was for him and I hadn't been able to come up with any potential solution that wasn't going to hurt him. I had considered getting a real dog, but then Ray would have to take care of two _kids_ while I was at work. No idea sounded good to me, I'd have to improvise when the moment came.

That night Frankie fell asleep right after we finished dinner. The car ride had left him tired and more so Bob and his games. In spite of my car being hot as hell, my friend had said that he enjoyed the day a lot and I could count on him for next weekend.  


I tended to be overprotective of Frank, sometimes I even acted like a grumpy old man; but rethinking it, it was maybe not so bad for him to have someone to play with in a more child-like way. I imagined that he missed playing with other kids. Bob might not be exactly one, but he was about Frank's age and his inner child was always willing to come out.  


As I sat there with Frank's head on my lap, brushing his hair with my fingers, that hairless spot was left uncovered. Now it meant more, it caused my heart to ache. I slid my fingertips along the pink, wrinkled scar. It must have been deep enough for stitches, although it'd been left to close by itself. There was a slight depression on that area, which made me think of what a miracle it had been that he survived. A baby's cranium is so tender...

 Frankie stirred and smiled in his sleep, exerting his unconscious contagious power on me. You just couldn't avoid smiling when Frank did. I would never understand his mother, nothing I could find out would help me understand what she had done to such a sweet boy.

******  


Next morning I woke up to the phone ringing. If it wasn't that I had to go to work that early anyway, I would have killed my brother.  


"Gerard, are you there?" he asked, since all he had gotten from me was a grunt.  


"Yeah, I'm here. I was sleeping before you called, you know?"  


"Sorry bro, I wanted to call before leaving for college."  


"And what for, Mikey?" I wasn't friendly when I'd just woken up, to anyone _but Frankie_. My morning mood would magically disappear at the sight of him.  


"To let you know that Alicia and I are gonna go visit you this afternoon. You get outta work at 4, right?"  


"Yes, but Frankie has an appointment with his psychiatrist at 5."  


"Oh, when should we be there, then?" he seemed determined to come over _this_ day.  


"Uh...I'd say 7 to be sure. You have the keys, so if we weren't home yet you just let yourself in, ok?"  


"Ok! Gotta go now, bye Gee!"  


"Bye, Mike!"  


"M-morning!" Frankie stretched. "Wh-who were you t-talking to?"  


"Good morning, babe!" I kissed him. "My brother Mikey, he's gonna visit us with Alicia later today."  


"M-Mikey doesn't l-like me."  


"That's not true. He was a little angry at me and having a bad day when you met him, but you'll see he's rather nice." I tried to hide my own worries. Though definitely a nice guy, my brother had always lacked patience for kids. Frankie was _dangerously_ similar to one.  


"K-kay," he yawned indifferently.

******  


The appointment with doctor Goldberg went well. He spoke to Frank alone for half an hour and then called me in, telling his assistant to watch Frankie for a while. The teen only agreed when promised some sweets.  


Goldberg said the improvement had been as good and normal as expected in a little more than a week. Considering that, and no serious side effects having appeared, he opined that it would be better to stick to the same medication and dose for the time being. About Frank's hallucinations, it was time to try telling him that it was all in his mind.

"But...how do I do it?" I questioned.  


"Frankie is more able to understand it now, and he must be aware that some of his 'friends' visit him less often when he's under medication. So, whenever you notice that he's hallucinating, inform him as simply and delicately as possible that what he's seeing is not real. It's important for him to hear that you _believe_ him. Those hallucinations are as real to him as this chair is to you. Question _what_ he sees, not the fact that he's seeing it. He knows he has an illness, so use that. Explain that his head makes those things up and that's why only he can see them. However, if Frankie becomes too nervous or upset, leave it for the moment. Don't insist much," he concluded. I was looking at the floor. "Do you have any questions?"  


"No, it's just that...it makes me a little sad to tell him his gnomes or the little people are not real, he likes them," I confided honestly.  


"I understand, but Frank _needs_ to know, he has the right to. He won't stop seeing them because of that, but he'll at least learn to discern reality from what it's not. The way they use that information varies from one patient to another, though."  


"Ok then, I'll try."  


When I commented that Frankie would be getting his glasses the following day, the doctor thought that it could be of great benefit to him. It would bring him more in contact with his surroundings and give him wider possibilities to entertain himself. 

In a clear contrast to the good news, Mark's expression changed considerably when we touched the subject of Frank's education. I told him all I'd gathered from my conversation with him and the man looked sad, worried, as shocked at the lack of tact and professionalism of that teacher as I had been when I heard the story from Frank.  


This evidently changed things, yet the psychiatrist didn't appear to give up hope on Frank. After being deep in thought for a moment, he smiled reassuringly and suggested something to help improve his attention span and comprehension skills. Doing so was of great importance for him to be able to learn new things. I'd have to ask Frankie to read something -easy and not too long- and then tell me what it was about. If he wasn't able to, he would have to try reading it again. He might need to do it several times to actually understand what he read. We were supposed to work on that for short periods of time each day to start with, not to force him; and even stop before if he wanted to.

Lastly, Goldberg said that he would be seeing Frank once every fifteen days, and recommended taking him to a hospital for a complete checkup in a month. The medication could affect his health in other ways besides the visible ones, so it was advisable to be in the know just in case he needed something to balance that. I hated how his physical health might have to suffer for him to be mentally better.

******  


We were back home at a little past 6:30, meaning our guests hadn't arrived yet. I followed Frankie to see what he'd do, a knot in my stomach. He headed for the bedroom and reached under the bed, standing up with Puppy in his arms. He kissed him, placed him under his chin, and left for the living room. There, he lied down with the imaginary pet apparently on his chest and turned the TV on. I knew I was supposed to tell him his hallucinations were not real, but I couldn't...not _with Puppy_. I didn't have the heart to tell him the dog didn't exist.  


I went for something to drink and though it only took me fifteen minutes, Frank was asleep by the time I looked at him again. He was on his side, with his arms still placed as if he was holding his pet.  


"Frankie..." I kissed his cheek. "...baby wake up, Mikey and Alicia will be here soon."  


"Uh...n-no, lemme s-sleep," he mumbled.  


"Pleeease...will you get up if I do this?" I crouched to peck his lips and he smiled, eyes still closed. He seemed to forget Puppy -or maybe the doggie had left- and hugged my neck. I took the chance to make him sit up, our lips staying locked until the doorbell was heard.  


"Mmm...n-noo."  


"Oh, guess I must go get it but...would you open these pretty eyes first?" I grazed his eyelids with my thumbs.  


"Th-they're still s-sleepy but kay," he obeyed.

"Where's the handsome little boy?" was the first sentence dropped by Alicia as soon as I let her in. Mikey followed her rolling his eyes.  


"You'll find a groggy version of Frankie on the couch, he'd fallen asleep," I pointed.  


"Aww! You woke him up, bad person?"  


"I knew he'd want to see you, he falls asleep all the time anyway."  


"Alicia...stop speaking of Frank as if he was a baby," Mikey whispered.  


"Shut up, Michael!"  


"But..."  


"Hi, Frankie!" she greeted him, shushing her boyfriend. Frank was only half awake, laid back on the couch; but at the sound of Alicia's voice he got up on his knees and embraced her.  


"H-hiii!"  


"Let me look at you...I think you're prettier than a month ago. Yes, are!" my brother's girlfriend continued to fangirl over Frank. 

The boy giggled and then glanced at Mikey. "H-hi, Mikey," he voiced in a murmur.  


"Hello kiddo, how are you?"  


"G-good, just s-sleepy. I...I t-take my pills n-now and tomorrow I...I'll have my g-glasses. L-like you," he commented, still shy in front of Mikey. 

Alicia got closer to speak in my ear while Frankie kept talking to my brother. "It surprised me to see his eyes. I think it's cute, but they're like...really crossed. Doesn't he see double or something?"  


"I know, I guess only when he looks at something from too close. I'll know better once he has his glasses, he can't see much at all now."  


"G-gee...can we d-drink something? Th-thirsty!" Frankie interrupted our whispering.  


"Oh, of course! I'll go for the sodas now."

While we all had our drinks I observed Frank. He was sitting in between Alicia and Mikey, staring at the last one intensely. Mikey had noticed and was visibly uncomfortable.  


"M-mikey...how's to w-wear glasses?" Frankie asked him.  


"Uh...I've worn them since I was a little kid so I'm used to it. You might feel weird at first, but then they won't bother you," he responded without looking at the boy.  


"Y-you see w-well with them?"  


"Yes."  


"Ahh...g-good." Frank's eyes remained fixed on the side of my brother's face. "M-mikey?"  


"What do you want now?" he sounded irritated.  


"Wh-why you don't l-look at me?" Frankie pouted.  


"I...I gotta go get something from the kitchen, be right back." Mikey got up and left, me close behind him.

I found him in the kitchen, sitting on a chair and playing with his cell phone. I walked to the cupboard, got Frank's pills from the box above it and a candy off the can. Mikey ignored me.  


"Would you tell me why you have to behave so distant with Frankie? Why can't you even look at him?" I talked to my brother while preparing the strawberry ball.  


"I...uh...he makes me uneasy...didn't you see how he was staring?"  


"Oh come on, Mikey! He's curious 'cause he's gonna have glasses too, that's what he was looking at!"  


"Still, his eyes make me feel uncomfortable..."  


"Why?"  


"It's not to be mean or anything, I swear I have nothing against him, he's a nice kid. But Gerard, are you gonna tell me you don't find it odd to look a cross-eyed person in the eyes?" he explicated. I felt like slapping him.  


"I don't find it odd, it's no problem for me to look Frankie in the eyes."  


"Sorry, but I do. I didn't mean to make him feel bad or ignore him."  


"I figure that, Mikey...but he's _very_ self conscious about his eyes, only now he's getting over it. So could you _please_ try to get over your...discomfort?"  


"Ok, I'll try," he nodded. 

We returned to the living room in silence.  


I gave Frank his undercover pill, which he swallowed obediently. Goldberg had told me that most patients had some periods when they'd refuse to take their pills. It hadn't happened so far and I hoped it never would.  


"What did you want to ask me, Frankie?" Mikey's eyes shifted a little, nervously, but he _was_ looking at Frank's. The boy smiled widely and I could see my brother relax and mirror him.  


"G-gimme your g-glasses to see them b-better?" Frank pleaded timidly.  


"I...uh..."  


"Mikey! Let him have them for a second!" Alicia reprimanded him.  


"I'm afraid he might break them..."  


Frankie looked down. "Oh...y-yeah, maybe, m-my hands are c-crappy. H-hold them c-close and I won't t-touch them?" he proposed lucidly.  


"Ok, here." My brother complied and Frank examined the glasses, seeming satisfied.  


"C-can I try th-them?"  


"Sure." 

Mikey's glasses did look good on Frankie, but I liked him more with the frame he had chosen for his.  


He grabbed a magazine from the coffee table and frowned when he tried to read it. "Th-they don't w-work," he stated, giving them back to Mikey. 

My brother said something into Alicia's ear, gaining a punch from her. That girl certainly knew how to educate her boyfriend.  


"It's not that, Frankie, you just need your own, they're different," I told him.  


"Ahh, k-kay."  


After that, things were fairly normal. We just talked about random things, laughed, and ordered pizza. Mikey appeared a little more at ease with Frankie, though he still tried not to give him much conversation. Alicia, on the other hand, wouldn't stop asking him things, kissing his cheeks and braiding his hair.  


"Al...again, he's not a Barbie doll, you know?" Mikey chuckled.  


"Not _a Barbie_ , but he's cute as a doll. Shut up, you're jealous," she dismissed him.  


"Yes, sweetheart." He grinned at her. "Oh, bell! Must be the ice cream!"  


Mikey got up in a hurry and attempted to run to the door, but accidentally kicked the smaller, dark green couch on the side.  


"FUCKING SON OF A BITCH! WHERE DID THIS FUCKING COUCH COME FROM?" he screamed rubbing his feet. Alicia left her boy to his pain and went for the ice cream instead.  


"Mikey...it was already there when you arrived. I had it in the attic and this week I decided to bring it here." I had taken that decision -even though there was barely enough room to walk in between- because I needed something to cover the wall where Frank had drawn the heart.  


"Well, I'm not used to it being here and it doesn't match and the room's too fucking small for it and..." Mikey stopped in the middle of his rant and only then I noticed something. When tripping over the couch, he had moved it, separating it from the wall.  


"Oh..." I practically threw myself at it to move it back, but Mikey was quicker and got the couch completely out of the way.  


"What the fuck...?" he exclaimed at the same time that Alicia was back inside, staring at the same wall.  


Silence filled the place and it was as if time had frozen. 


	25. Chapter 25

_Give me light to see my inside,  
give me light to see my sin.  
I'd never do what I regret,  
I've never done anything bad.  
You must be joking when you point at me!_

"Mikey..." I wanted to speak, but words weren't coming out right.  


Mikey took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Please tell me it's not what I'm thinking."  

I was still staring at the wall when I heard the sound of feet being dragged towards us. Frankie stood in the middle of Mikey and me, looked at his uncovered work and brought a hand to his mouth. "Oops!" he gasped. "It...it w-was our s-secret!"  


I growled out of desperation. Frank's naive comment had most probably buried me. Now Mikey surely thought I did dirty things to the kid and had told him to keep it secret. My mind traveled far away for a long time, imagining all the terrible things my brother could be considering.  


"Gerard...tell me _now_ what this is and what Frankie meant." His tone was louder.  


"Mikey calm down, it's definitely _not_ what you're thinking!"  


"Oh, I think it is, don't give me that shit."  


"Mikey, please!" Alicia tried to stop him.  


"No, Al. I need to know, stay out of this!" he pushed her away, gently yet firmly.  


"Frankie and I have been in each other's company almost permanently since I found him, and I'm the one who takes care of him. He's just...very attached to me, that's all! I hid the drawing because I knew others would interpret it wrong..." I improvised in a desperate attempt to convince him that there was nothing else. 

However, when I looked at Frankie -who was peeping from behind Alicia, scared- in the eyes, guilt struck me. It was one thing to keep our relationship secret while possible, but denying it when being asked felt as if I was denying _him_.  


"Don't lie to me, Gerard! I can see the way you're looking at Frankie! I noticed the kid's face when he saw the drawing! I just...can't _believe_ it! I need to hear it from you...fuck!" My brother was almost screaming now. His gestures were harsh, his voice commanding. He seemed mortified, thinking of me as some kind of monster. 

Frank whimpered, covering his ears.  


"I think I better take him to the kitchen, this is frightening him," Alicia said softly, her arm around the boy's shoulders.  


"N-no but th-they...are f-fighting..." he whispered.  


"They'll be fine, sweety. We'll go to the kitchen with the ice-cream so they can talk here alone, ok?"  


"K-kay," Frank eyed Mikey before walking away. "but d-don't fight." Stumbling, he leaned on the wall not to fall and continued his way supporting himself with his open palms.  


"Please Alicia, watch him. He sometimes feels dizzy for a couple of hours after taking his pills," I asked her. Mikey puffed impatiently.  


"Will do, and you two behave like adults, ok? Mikey...it's _your brother_ you're talking to, you know him."  


Once I heard Alicia close the kitchen's door behind them, I sat down and sighed loudly.  


"Well?" Mikey impelled me to speak. 

I patted the couch, inviting him to sit with me.  


He shook his head 'no'. "I'm fine, _and waiting._ "  


"Ok...it _is_ what you're thinking but...no, let me finish!" I raised a hand before he could interrupt me. "...but it's not _how_ you think."  


"So you _know_ how I think it is? You're inside my head?" He wouldn't take his eyes off me.  


"It's evident that you're thinking the worst, or you wouldn't be accusing me like this! " I replied.  


"Let's start with the main thing: you're admitting that you have something with the kid, something _more_ than a brotherly or...fatherly relationship..." Mikey struggled a little to find the correct words, his nerves were unconcealable. He kept walking from side to side in that reduced space and wantonly fixing his glasses on his nose.  


"Yes, but it's not..."  


"That's enough! How do you want me to react? Frank...he...he's like a little kid, for God's sake!" he refrained from shouting.  


"He is _not_ a little kid! He's 18!" I told him. 

Mikey rolled his eyes. "He's mentally ill, Gerard. He can't completely know what he's doing. I don't think he can be even counted as an adult, which makes _you_ a pervert. How can you? I...I didn't even know you were gay to start with!"  


"Are you at least gonna let me talk and try to defend myself, or do you expect me to sit here quietly and hear you throw shit at me?" I got up and stood in front of him.  


"Ok, let's see what you have to say, though I think this situation is unjustifiable." He let himself fall on the small couch, his arms crossed over his chest.  


"I'm _not_ a fucking perv, and _Frank_ took the first steps. Yes, don't look at me like that, he did." I related how things had gradually evolved since I met Frankie. I expressed as clearly as I could what I felt for him, how patient I'd been; that I had waited until Frank got his meds to be sure that he was aware of his words and actions. "He loves me, Mikey, and I feel the same. I... _love_ that boy." I paused and waited for him to say something.  


"God, Gerard...this is so fucked up," he mumbled, head down in between his hands.  


"Mikey...Gerard's telling you the truth." Alicia appeared by the door. "The first time we met Frank, he commented with me about how the boy was acting weird towards him for moments, that he seemed _interested_ in him. After that he called me a couple of times and I can swear to you Mikey, your brother fought a lot with his own feelings."  


"You _knew_ it? You fucking knew about my brother's...perversion and said nothing?" he spat at Alicia furiously.

"I knew _part_ of it and imagined you'd take it the wrong way, that's why I didn't tell you! I never thought you were capable of calling your own brother perverted, though. You're _so_ wrong, Michael...so wrong. Now excuse me, I gotta go back to Frank." I could perceive in her voice that she was about to cry.  


"You happy now? You even made your girlfriend upset because you are incapable of listening. You just make up your own story in your mind and no one can fucking get you outta it." I was sick and tired of that discussion. At this point I had no doubts left, there was nothing wrong about my relationship with Frank. Not even my brother, my own blood, would convince me otherwise.  


"But Gerard, even if you felt something for him you should've used your head a little more! _This_ head!" he uttered pointing at his. _That_ was enough.  


"Do you ever listen? I _love_ Frank. I don't...lust over him! This isn't about sex, I'm not perverted I'm..." I lowered my voice, realising that I was losing control. "...I'm not _fucking_ Frank, Mikey! I haven't fucked him or touched him and I won't unless I know he's prepared for that and wants it too. _Even if that means never_. It's all just kisses and caresses, you moron! Now you can act like a brother and believe me, or you can get the fuck out and forget we're family. I won't allow you to think that of me. I may be nearly an alcoholic -fighting against it, but you _could_ call me that. I lost my job, I've been a mess, I've made lots of mistakes and damn...yes, I'm gay! But I'm _no way_ a pervert."

Mikey stared at me with huge eyes. He wasn't expecting me to talk to him like that. We had argued lots of times, but I had never been so determinant. Sometimes I'd let him win just because I got tired of fighting. Not this time, I would not let this one pass.  


"I..." he faltered. "...don't know what to say. I guess...I guess I went a little too far accusing you like that."  


"A _little_? A little, you say? Calling your own brother perverted is going _a little_ too far?" I cried, unable to stop the tears anymore. 

He raised his eyes and his expression changed. "Ok, _incredibly_ far. I just...freaked out. I'm still not sure of what I should think I...you'll have to give me some time to process all this. I felt disgusted with the idea, but I'm also worried. Worried about you, terrified that you might get into big trouble. And worried about _Frankie_. Yes, I may act like an asshole to him, but it's only because he annoys me. I can't help it, I've never had patience with kids."  


"He's..."  


"Yeah, you'll say Frank's not a kid, but he does act like one, you can't deny it. Anyway I'm not insensitive, I know all that boy's been through and just thinking that you..."  


"Mikey _, no_. I'd never..."  


"I believe you, I _choose_ to believe you though as I said, I'll need some time to get used to it."  


"Fair enough." I took a deep breath and rested my head on the couch. None of us spoke for several minutes. I could hear Frankie and Alicia chatting, but couldn't figure out what they were saying.

"You...Laura...I don't get it," Mikey suddenly broke the silence, more to the air than to me.  


"Big mistake, I wanted to give myself an opportunity with girls. My first serious experience was with a boy and didn't go very well," I answered tiredly, not giving real importance to my confession.  


"So...that person who cheated on you, the one who'd left you so heartbroken...?"  


"Gabriel."  


"Oh...and how come we never knew?" he inquired confused.  


"Only Ray did. I'm good, uh?" I chuckled, trying to make fun of the situation. Those memories weren't helping my post-fight mood. "I don't wanna talk about it now."  


"Ok..."  


"Hey, pair of idiots! Well, one more so than the other..." Alicia returned with Frank. "While you were having such a nice conversation here, I had Frankie's version of the matter."  


"What?" I questioned. Frank was hugging his teddy bear and looked like he had been crying, but he was now smiling.  


"It's not that I had any doubt, he just wanted to explain something to me about the secret. Mikey...I can assure you, there's nothing to worry about. This boy's _absolutely_ happy with the way Gerard treats him, your brother does nothing out of place. Frankie's perfectly fine with him," she told him. 

Mikey nodded, giving her an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry Alicia, I really am. I didn't mean to be so rude..."  


"It's ok, but we do need to talk about your reactions and your annoying habit of not letting the other person speak."  


"Ok," he assented like a little boy that had been reprimanded. Sometimes Alicia appeared to be his mother.  


Frankie came to sit on my lap and I observed Mikey, who was slightly tense. "Th-they know the s-secret now, r-right?" he asked.  


"Yes, they do," I responded, caressing his cheek.  


"Th-then we can d-do this," he giggled. Leaving the bear aside he hugged me, closed his eyes and kissed me. He usually missed my mouth if he was looking, yet got right to it if he wasn't. 

With a hand on his back and the other one on his neck, I reciprocated the kiss. During the few seconds it lasted I felt my heart melt. When I peered at Frank again, I knew he was thinking the same as me: it was better when not having to hide. 

Mikey didn't seem exactly comfortable. He got up and left the room saying nothing.  


"He just needs time, it'll be ok." Alicia kissed both our heads. She was gonna leave, then came back and pinched our cheeks. "And you two are just adorable."  


"Ouch, h-hurtss!" Frankie protested.  


"Sorry...couldn't resist." She went after her boyfriend.

Once we were left alone in the room, Frankie and I took advantage of our new freedom and cuddled on the couch. He seemed troubled, though. My fight with Mikey had scared him and he asked me some questions about it. I only explained that Mikey was angry because I hadn't told him that we loved each other; the rest of the conversation wasn't appropriate for Frank.  


After that, he luckily changed the subject and talked about the ice-cream; what flavors he had chosen and how 'yummy' it was. I'd gotten used to Frank's changes and had learned to love everything related to him. He could act like a loving boyfriend and then in seconds go back to speaking like a child. It had become normal to me.  


We were kissing again, wrapped up in the moment, when we heard someone cough behind us. Mikey. "We...are leaving now."  


"Oh, ok!" abandoning our love bubble, we got up to say goodnight to them. They were about to step out of the house when it dawned on me how dangerous it was to have my brother knowing of my relationship with Frank. "Mikey...I know it's hard for you to keep your mouth shut but please, don't tell mom about this. I want to do it myself when I'm ready."  


"I think she should know," he stated gravely, sighting as he caught my menacing glance. "Alright, I won't tell her. But you better not take too long."  


"I won't! Thanks, brother."  


******

The following morning proved my cowardice. I totally failed at telling Frank that the little people were not real, I didn't even dare try. I watched him smile and talk to them on the table, I saw him separate part of his cereal and put it on a little plate for his friends, acting so cheerful and amused. I suddenly remembered how I'd felt when my parents told me that Santa didn't exist. The disappointment, the sadness, the gloomy feeling that life had lost its magic. I imagined it could be a similar shock for Frankie, or even worse having in mind his problems. Therefore I couldn't, I was not prepared, I needed more time.  


******  


Before I went to work, I took Frank to pick up his glasses. I had to make a big effort to not cry while seeing his little happy face when the unfriendly woman reappeared from the back of the shop. Frankie practically ripped them off her hands.  


"What manners..." she grumbled.  


"He's just happy, can't you see?" I sent her an angry look.  


"H-how I look?" Frankie grinned. He was too adorable for words.  


"You look gorgeous, baby. As pretty and cute as ever, or maybe more!" I kissed his lips briefly, not caring if that odious woman was seeing it. She wasn't, though, she had disappeared through the back again.  


All of a sudden Frank froze, his mouth open as he stared at my face. I realised that he was seeing me properly for the first time and it made me feel kind of self conscious. He took his time to analyze me, raising his quivering hands to grab my head and move it to both sides. He freed my hair from behind my ears and brushed it a little with his fingers. His surprised features transformed into a smile. His eyes, behind translucent glass, were smiling as much as his lips.  


"W-wow. Y-you're a lot more h-handsome, now! Al-always said you w-were, b-but now you're m-more," he declared and squeezed me.  


"Thank you, honey. But are you sure those glasses are ok? I'm _not_ pretty!" I hid my nose in his hair. It smelled like strawberry shampoo, it smelled like Frankie. 

He slapped my arm playfully. "Sh-shut up, silly! G-glasses work f-fine 'cause I s-see you pretty and y-you _are_ pretty. I kn-know that! Th-they agree, always t-told me, d-didn't you?" he asked to the floor. "S-see?" he stuck out his tongue to me. "P-pretty!"  


"Sorry, are you gonna pay already?" the bitch disrupted us. I bet she had been hearing us and was not exactly pleased. Too bad that I didn't give a fuck.  


"Yes, yes..." 

I also bought Frankie a purple strip that would keep the glasses in place, knowing he usually moved a lot. You couldn't even see it though, since it was hidden under his hair.  


When we left that place, I looked at my watch. Ray was probably at home, already waiting for us. "We need to hurry, I have to leave you home with Ray and then go to work." 

Frankie had taken his pill a little more than an hour before, so I knew he wouldn't walk too fast. And that wasn't the only problem I encountered. We hadn't advanced much when he began to look around entranced. 

"What..? Oh, I know. Everything looks different, doesn't it?"  


"Y-yeah..."  


I gently tugged on his hand, urging him to keep walking; but he'd stop by every shop-window, read every sign and admire every garden with flowers. It was as if he was beholding it all for the first time. The sight of Frankie being that marveled and eager was so moving for me that I wished I could spend the whole day with him, share his emotions.  


"Come on, baby. I know you wanna see it all, but it's late. Everything will be right here waiting for you next time you come," I insisted while he was reading a restaurant's menu of the day.  


"Ewww m-mushroom? P-people eat th-that? Th-they smell b-bad!" he opined on the gravy, ignoring my pleads.  


"Well, I don't like it either, but some people do."  


"Ewwwww," he screwed up his face in disgust.  


When we finally arrived home, Ray was there watching TV. He didn't seem mad at all, it wasn't easy to get Ray mad, still I felt bad for making him wait. 

"Sorry, man. Frankie got distracted by _everything_ on the way," I apologized.  


"No problem!" he glanced at Frank. "Come here kid, let me see you. Oh, I like them a lot, you look smart! Well, you _are_ smart, but these glasses make you look even more so."  


"Th-thanks!" Frankie smiled widely and ran to the corridor mirror. He touched the surface -seemingly wanting to touch his reflection- and giggled.  


"See how beautiful you are?" I whispered in his ear. 

He became red as a tomato and hid his face. When he withdrew his hands, his expression mutated to worried. "B-but eyes still f-fucked up," he pouted.  


"The glasses are just for you to see better which is more important, maybe they'll be able to fix your eyes when you're older. You don't have to worry about it now, I love them."  


"K-kay, then."  


"Ray...after lunch, could you take Frankie for a walk? He's desperate to see it all through his glasses," I wavered in front of my friend.  


"Sure, we'll have fun. Right, Frankie?"  


"Y-yes!! Pleeeeease!" he applauded.  


"Thank you, Ray. Bye Frankie, be a good boy while  in the street!"  


"W-will be!"

******  


On my return, Frankie dragged me to the coffee table immediately. My heart was invaded by tenderness when I spotted the big box of color pencils and a pile of paper sheet. He had been drawing.  


"You bought him this?" I asked Ray.  


"Yeah, I couldn't convince him to go back home. I think he didn't leave a single thing unseen," he laughed. "Then I saw these pencils in a shop and thought it'd interest him and give him something to do here. He only agreed to go back so he could use them."  


"Excellent idea, indeed!" 

I knelt beside Frank and looked at the drawing on which he'd been working. It was childish and simple, with stick figures; although colorful and good nevertheless. The lines were wavy, but his hand must have become steady by the time he had applied color, because it was neatly done. You could clearly tell the people in the drawing were Ray, me and himself. Frankie was in the middle -much shorter than us- and he was holding my hand. The only thing that was off were the colors he had chosen: the sky was pink, the grass blue, Ray's hair was green and Frankie's purple. My hair was accurately black, though. I'd always thought that he knew the colors, now I would have to recheck it later.  


"L-like it? I...I'll d-draw the others l-later," he said. "Al-also gotta d-draw Puppy!"  


"Yeah, it's good, I love it! We could put it on the bedroom's wall, what do you say?"  


"Yep!"  


Frank grabbed a new piece of paper and looked in front of him, laughing. "N-no! S-stop, I'm d-drawing, see? C-can't if you d-dance all over the p-paper! Y-yes, the dance is g-good and f-funny but get off!" He moved his hands like scaring something away. The gnomes I guessed, since he said they were dancing. 

Ray eyed me, signaling Frankie with his head. "Shouldn't you...?"  


"Uh..." I knew I had to. _Could_ I? If only Frankie was having one of the negative hallucinations -which he hadn't in days- then I would have no problem telling him it wasn't real. The gnomes, on the other hand...wouldn't that be cruel?  


	26. Chapter 26

_You know, they come here every night...  
I see them, don't you see them?  
Uhm....That's odd, isn't it?_  


  


"Come sit here with me, we need to talk about somethingl," I told Frankie, motioning for the couch. Ray sat on the smaller one and nodded to reassure me that he'd be there just in case.  


"'bout wh-what?" the boy asked. I noticed that the novelty of being able to distinguish all my features still amused him.  


"About...the gnomes, for example," I began. I had no idea how I would go on, though. Frank was staring at me expectantly, a half smile planted on his face. _He was happy._  


For moments he seemed unaffected by everything that was negative. Some things he luckily ignored, some he didn't get to comprehend, and others he just didn't give importance to. He had a home, people to take care of him and plus, he could finally observe the world with more detail. That was enough for Frankie. His hallucinations, however -at least the positive ones, were something he also appreciated; they kept him entertained, they were part of his life. A part I was about to crush.

"Th-the gnomes annoyed me a l-little today. Y-yeah, they d-did," he giggled.  


"Why?" I didn't want to rush the conversation.  


"'C-cause I was d-drawing and they w-were telling me wh-what to do. Th-think they t-told me some things w-wrong..." he frowned. 

I looked at the drawing again and decided to postpone a little more what I was going to tell him. I did it for myself as much as for him; I had come up with an idea.  


"Frankie...before we continue to talk I need to know something. It'll be kinda like a game, ok?" I knew it wasn't good to interrogate him in a straightforward manner. He tended to try too hard to answer properly, and would usually end up confused and not making much sense.  


"Y-yeah! I l-like games!" he smiled.  


"Ok. You have to answer my questions, even if they sound too stupid," I instructed, leaving the paper with the drawing face down on the table.  


"K-kay!"  


"What color is the sky?" I asked. 

Frankie bit his lower lip, thinking. "Wh-when it's day it...it's l-light blue. If n-night then d-dark blue or....or b-black. M-more black," he replied with security.  


"Very well. Now pick up the pencils that match those colors."  


Frank examined them carefully, running a finger through them all. "B-black..." he chose the first one. "And...l-light blue." He gave both to me.  


"Excellent." he had gotten them right, but I'd do some more tests anyway. "Now...what color are the grass and the trees?"  


"G-green, duh!" was his instant answer. Then he appeared to be suddenly lost in thought. Had he realised that he colored those things wrong? After some seconds he looked back at me, waiting for instructions.  


"Could you choose the right pencil? Any green, it doesn't matter if it's darker or lighter."  


"H-here!" Frank quickly grabbed a bright one, correctly again. He didn't seem to have a problem with recognizing colors.  


"Good. Uh...what color is your hair?" I tried one more. 

He took a lock of it in between his fingers and studied it. "Mmm...b-brown! Y-yes, brown," he responded. Before I told him anything, he had the matching pencil in his hand and handed it to me proudly.  


"Awesome again! How about Ray's hair?" I kissed his cheek dearly, happy to know that he wasn't color blind too. Frankie got up laughing and went to my friend. He seized one of Ray's curls and put it close to his own long mane, comparing them.  


"Watch out for the cooties!" Ray poked Frank's belly, making him jump.  


"R-really?"  


"Nah, I was just joking. So what's your conclusion about my hair?"  


"It...it's...b-brown, too. B-but lighter than m-mine. Y-yes." He sat in front of the box of pencils and searched. "L-like... _this_ p-pencil!"

It was evident that Frank had it clear about colors. What's more, he was rather smart and very capable of deducing things by himself. Maybe only _simple_ things, right, but no one expected him to be Einstein with a not fully functional brain. I was proud of how strong and willing to learn he was, and I knew he'd get better with help.  


"You did pretty well, but now I have a doubt..." I headed for my main goal.  


"Wh-what?" Frank said among giggles, watching the gnomes dance for him again.  


"If you know the colors of things perfectly, why did you use different ones for your drawing?" I inquired. 

He turned the drawing over, looked at it, and smacked his forehead. "T-told you!" he exclaimed, although not addressing _me._  


"You told them what?"  


"Th-the gnomes started s-saying which c-colors I sh-should use. T-told them they w-were wrong. B-but they s-said _I_ was, and in-insisted and...con-fused me!" He next reprimanded the gnomes with his index finger. "S-see? _Y-you_ made me r-ruin it!"  


"Oh no, Frankie! I like it a lot the same, I was just curious. You don't need to listen to the gnomes, though. You can do it without their help, trust yourself next time, ok?"  


"K-kay."  


"You got the color of my hair right, the gnomes agreed with that one?" That detail intrigued me and I'd been left thinking about it.  


"N-nope, they s-said it was r-red. B-but I told them I w-was sure it was b-black. L-love your h-hair, I kn-know it...veeery w-well," he whispered the last part. I hoped Ray hadn't noticed the kid's sexy tone and the dreamy eyes he made. 

Luck was on our side, and my friend's phone rang at that moment.  


"Oh shit!" he read the text message. "My dad wants me home, he needs help with something. Do you think you can handle things alone?"  


"Yes Ray, don't worry. Go man, really!" I patted his back. I wasn't sure if I could, but I wouldn't make Ray stay and risk having a fight with his father just because of my cowardice.  


"See you both tomorrow then, keep up the good work, Frankie!" He kissed his head and left.

"G-gee? Y-you feel kay?" Frankie questioned. I had been staring at the same humidity stain on the ceiling for several minutes. _He_ was worried about _me_! Meanwhile, I was gathering the needed courage to face my responsibility.  


"Yes baby, I'm fine. I was just thinking, remember I told you that I wanted to talk about the gnomes?"  


"Y-yep!"  


"Well, it wasn't about the drawing."  


"N-no?" He raised his perfect eyebrows curiously.  


"No. Listen...you know you're ill, don't you? That you're special because your...head is ill?" I made my tone as soft as possible, to somehow smooth the words I was pronouncing. As much as I had tried to find the correct ones, as much as I didn't want to...I felt like I was being too blunt. 

Frankie's face saddened a little, yet he wasn't mad. "Y-yeah, I kn-know. G-grace told me and...and d-doctor Gold-berg too. An..an illness w-with a weird n-name I can't say..."  


"Schizophrenia."  


"Th-that, yes. B-but I'm a little b-better 'cause I take m-my pills. I...I am...am I, G-gee?"  


"Of course you're better, you're _much_ better with the pills. However, the meds can't _totally_ cure you, you also know that. And...one of the things that happen to people with schizophrenia, is that their heads make things up. It causes them to see things that don't really exist." I paused to think of what else to say.

Someone had most probably explained this to him before at the institution, but he didn't seem to remember. Maybe his head had erased all rational explanations after being exposed to weeks of total confusion while off the meds, or maybe he had never understood.  


"Wh-what? D-don't understand..." he shook his head.  


"There are things that you see but no one else can. They're not real."  


"Wh-what things? I...I d-don't understand, G-gee. N-no, nothing..."  


"Many things you see don't exist for real, you imagine them." I was so nervous and worried that I could hardly breathe.  


"Wh-what things? EX-EXPLAIN TO ME B-BETTER, GERARD! I D-DON'T GET IT!" he screamed, disconcerted.  


"The...the gnomes, for example." The words fell from my lips like knives. 

Frankie blinked, his glasses didn't conceal the tears accumulating. "Wh-what you m-mean? The...the g-gnomes _exist_! Th-they're real 'cause...'cause I c-can see them! S-see? TH-THEY'RE _THERE_ , G-GEE!"  


"Shh, love..." I kissed his lips and felt him relax only slightly. "I know you see them, I believe you."  


"Y-you see them t-too!" He twisted his hair, reclining against my chest. I was feeling worse with every second that passed.  


"No, Frankie, I can't see them." I rubbed his back, trying to keep him calm even thought I knew I had just dropped a bomb.

"B-but you s-said you could! Y-you lied to m-me!"  


"I know. I was afraid of hurting you, I wanted to wait and ask a doctor what to do," I explicated. 

He started to cry, anguished and confused. "Y-you...YOU L-LIED!"  


"I didn't want to, I swear. I know how you like the gnomes and..."  


"I s-see them, G-gerard!I P-promise I see th-them! An-and...and they t-talk to me, they ex-exist!" he sobbed desperately.  


"I know Frankie, I know you see them, they're real _for you_ , but not for the rest of people. Do you understand?" I kissed his forehead. He was flush and agitated, and I still felt like an asshole.  


"D-dunno. Wh-what else is l-like that?" he mumbled.  


"You mean other things that only you can see?"  


"Y-yeah..."  


"Well...the little people, the butterflies or ladybugs you sometimes see inside the house..." I didn't want to name anything else. No way I'd include Puppy. "Oh please Frankie, don't ask about him." I prayed in my head.  


"N-no...but...no. Th-they...I...the l-little people s-speak and they e-eat and...I s-see them..." he faltered. It was too much for him, I wanted it to stop but I couldn't go back now.  


"Yes, _you_ hear them and see them eat. They exist for you, so everything they do seems real. But we _can't_ see them. There are also ugly things you see that are not real. You were never attacked by spiders, and there aren't free elephants on the streets that follow cars or people to crush them."  


"Y-YES THERE ARE! An-and...how I kn-know if things are r-real or not?" Nerves were making it hard for him to control his feelings and reactions. One moment he was in total denial, the next one he was reconsidering what I said and asking questions.  


"Don't worry about that, I'll let you know. You don't have to ask or anything."  


"K-kay...but h-how? N-no...NOT T-TRUE!" he insisted. 

I meditated for a while. "Did you use to see all those things when you were at the institution?"  


"Uh...n-not much...I th-think. S-sometimes. Gu-guess they l-like your house m-more!" There he was being so childish and innocent again.  


"No, that's because you always took your medication there. Then when you..." I stopped, not knowing how to phrase it. "...when you were out of that place and didn't have your pills for weeks, you began to imagine all that again. Now you're back on your meds, that's why you don't see them so often..." I didn't dare add that he might completely _stop_ seeing some of them.  


Frankie spent some time crying in silence, shaking and sweating while I just held him. "G-gee...I h-have to stop t-talking to them? I s-see them and they s-speak! I...I h-have to do as if th-they're not there, n-now?" he murmured with sadness. 

That was when I set my limit. I didn't care if Goldberg would like my decision or not, I would not torture Frank any more.  


"No babe, you can keep on talking to them. It's ok."  


"Y-you don't m-mind?"  


"Nope. Just remember that other people can't see them, ok?"  


"K-kay." His lips curved up faintly. "G-gee?"  


"Yes?"  


"I...I'm c-crazy like some p-people say? Y-you said the f-first time..."  


"I know I did, but that was wrong. You're _not_ crazy, you're just ill. It's not that bad, though. It makes you special, as Grace told you. Just think of it: you can see things no one else can!"  


"Th-that's true!" He suddenly seemed content, the stressful moment forgotten. That was it? Had I worried so much for nothing? Had Frank really understood it all and accepted it as long as he could still talk to his imaginary friends? I hoped so, but wasn't that sure.  


"We 'normal' ones are boring." I sometimes wished I was like him to share what he felt, to see what he saw.  


"Y-you're not." he whispered in my ear. "I l-love you." He sat up and moved around until he was straddling me, now smiling widely.  


Tempted, I stole a quick kiss from Frankie, and his laughter filled the room together with my heart. Naughtily, he stole the kiss back from me, and I felt complete. At that exact second I needed no more. Those crossed, hazel eyes in front of me were a view of pure bliss.  


Frankie raised his hands, the back of them caressing the sides of my face. Gently, barely perceptible. His bright orbs behind black rim still fixated on mine, while his fingers traveled down. They reached the hem of my white t-shirt and slid under it. He was experimenting, feeling me for the first time. He bit his lip shyly, and I smiled to let him know it was okay.  


Fingertips grazed my nipples. He giggled, amused. I threw my head back; liking that _too_ much, but afraid at the same time. I _had_ to stay in control, not let pleasure completely win me over. He would feel it, I could scare him. Since Frankie told me what had happened with that boy John, I was _terrified_ of scaring him.

My arms that had been limply hanging out of surprise, were finally lifted. Fingers found their place into my sweet boy's entangled hair; then going down. Palms roaming along his back, cautiously stopping by the small of it. As always, the most I dared to try. This time, though, Frank moved his body slightly up to kiss behind my ear, my hand accidentally sliding further down. I heard him gasp and I withdrew my hand, checking on him worried. _He was still smiling._  


"Is it ok if I touch you there? Did you like it?" I needed his verbal agreement.  


"Y-yes..." he blushed. 

Slowly, my hands returned to their last position. Frank's were now on my shoulders, as he exhaled lengthily. I attacked his mouth; a non violent attack, one loaded with love and passion. His everlasting smile only dissolved when he returned the kiss with the same intensity. It was the most heated ever, and the room got warmer. I was lost in place and time, only aware of his lips on mine, both our tongues joined as one. Unconsciously, I squeezed him.  


"Uh...sorry baby..." I apologized, then realising that he was humming contently, pecking at the sides of my mouth cutely. I rubbed his hips as we kissed again.

All of a sudden he broke the kiss and fidgeted, trying to find a more comfortable pose. I waited. He tugged at his shorts a little, got closer to me and whimpered. That's when I felt it, against my groin and through his pants, and I saw the control of my own body peril. I touched his cheek with my nose, forehead to forehead.  


"It's ok," I whispered. 

I turned and lied on the couch, Frank on top of me. I took off his glasses, hugged him tightly, and the kissing was resumed. He seemed more at ease. I was losing my battle, feeling him so close to me was too much. I instinctively jerked my hips up. Frankie opened his eyes wide and stared at me. It wasn't a look of fear but of discovery; he had liked what he felt.  


John had only _fucked_ him, nearly brutally. With no feeling, no previous contact or sweet words. Frankie wasn't a virgin, yet he knew nothing about many things. He hadn't experienced anything of what we had been doing.

As we continued kissing and mildly touching, Frank began to rock his hips. A reflex, his body acting by need. Although he was enjoying it, I was unsure if it was alright. I wondered if I was crossing the line by allowing this but really, I wasn't doing anything. I had done nothing wrong.  


"I...I l-love you," he said breathless. I started to move with him, I couldn't help it.  


Frankie scarcely made any sound, and I tried to keep myself quiet too. I wanted to be able to hear his sighs and little whimpers once in a while, listen to his heartbeat accompanying mine, our chests so close that it burnt. Our dressed bodies went on with the dance, our swollen mouths missing rhythm. I exploded inside of my boxers after not too long a while. _For the first time in months._

Since I took Frank home, he'd always been by my side; and even when he slept I had never pleasured myself. I couldn't think of him to get off, neither had I felt the necessity. Now it was _both_ of us enjoying and it didn't feel that wrong. Not wrong at all, actually.

 I was done, but I kept on moving, helping Frank reach his climax. Sensing him freeze and grip my shoulders hurtfully. Watching him close his eyes tight and allow his jaw to fall, relaxed, while his body shook. Then it all went silent and quiet, and his head collapsed on my neck. I didn't speak, I didn't want to ruin the moment.  


"I n-need to go ch-change," he spoke secretly. "I...I'm w-wet."  


"Nah. I want you, pretty babe, to stay here with me. Besides...I'm wet too, so I don't mind."  


"Y-you? Really?" he smirked.  


"Shh, really!" I traced his little nose with a finger. 

Frank laughed. His eyes were sleepy but he seemed happy and as innocent as ever. He was fine, I was fine.  


Glancing at the black watch on my wrist that read 6:30 pm, I set the alarm for 8:30 -when Frank had to take his pill- and we fell asleep, exhausted. I didn't need anything else. Even if we never did more than that, even if we didn't even do _that_ again, it would be enough the same. We had our love, we had each other. Who cared what the others thought? Who cared whether my family would accept it? _Not me._


	27. Chapter 27

_Hell is living without your  
love ain't nothing without your  
touch me, heaven would be like  
hell is living without you._

"G-GERARD! G-GEE!" Frank called me loudly. I had gotten up first that morning to have breakfast ready for when he did.  


"I'm here in the kitchen, baby. What's wrong?" I asked. He came in shaking, his hair a mess and his face stained with tears. "Frankie, are you okay?"  


"I...I w-was looking for P-puppy but...c-can't...I...d-dunno wh-where..." he sobbed. 

I had prayed for this moment to never come. Bracing myself for what was next, I inhaled deeply and tried to pour the security I didn't have into my voice. "Ok...first you have to try and calm down. Come here, let me wash your face." 

I brought Frank to the sink and he just kept on crying, without saying a word. Feeling the cold water on his reddened skin seemed to sooth him a little, so I moistened his hair to refresh him. The temperature was incredibly high for that early hour.  


"Better. Now you'll sit here and take your pill." I deposited him on the table and handed him the candy, waiting until he swallowed it. "Finish your juice. I'll go for your glasses and then we'll talk, ok?"  


"K-kay..." New tears rolled down his cheeks, which I kissed before leaving.  


Once he had his glasses on, I looked at his sad face. His eyes were slightly shifting, as they always did when he got too nervous; even more if many hours had passed since his last pill. 

"Now tell me what happened again. Take it easy, don't try to speak too fast."  


"I...w-was looking for P-puppy," Frank took a deep breath. "b-but could n-not find...him. N-not here. He...h-he's not h-here, Gee!" He was crying even worse now, choking with the tears and coughing.  


"Frankie...Frankie look at me. Breathe slowly, like this, follow me...good. Now drink a little more juice, small sips." I held the glass to his lips, he was a bundle of nerves at the moment.  


I needed to keep my calm, one of us _had_ to and it was clear who. My own fears didn't matter. I hopped on the table and embraced him, rocking him gently. "Remember what I told you yesterday about the illness you have?"  


"Y-yes..." his voice was hoarse and unsure.  


"You know how I explained to you that there are some things your mind makes up, and now that you're better you sometimes can't see them?"  


"Y-yeah but...b-but Puppy's real. Ev-everybody sees him and...he...y-yeah he's r-real and I c-can't find him!" He appeared to suspect what I was going to tell him, and the possibility was unthinkable to him. Anyone could see that Puppy was the most real of all his hallucinations. He was his friend, his mate. 

I knew what was the right thing to do, but it didn't match what I _felt_ like doing. What could I do, anyway? Letting Frank think that his dog had ran away wasn't much better.  


"Baby, no. Puppy...he's not real either. I know he seems so to you, more than any other thing. I know you can see him, hear him, feel him when you hold him. I _truly_ believe you can..."  


"N-NO!" Frank pushed himself off the table but stumbled, falling on his knees. He crawled to a corner and, facing a wall, started to hit it with his fist. "Y-YOU...ARE...A...L-LIAR!! S-STOP IT! I W-WANT PUPPY! G-GIVE HIM TO M-ME! M-MINE! HE...H-HE EXISTS, L-LIAR! YOU S-SEE HIM, HE E-EATS ALL HIS F-FOOD. Y-YOU...S-STOP IT!"  


"Frankie please, you're gonna hurt your hand..." I approached him carefully, barely touching his flexed knee. He instantly extended it and thrust it forward against my chest, violently making me apart.  


"G-GET OUT, L-LIAR! O-OUT! G-GIMME MY D-DOG!" He _stabbed_ me with his screams, his harsh words.  


"I don't have your dog, he's not..." Again I tried to touch him and he kicked my stomach, causing me to double over in pain. However, the emotional pain and confusion Frankie was going through hurt me even more. It reminded me of the time when he had gone wild and practically attacked me. I didn't want that happening again, mostly for his own sake I needed to avoid it, I needed him to relax.  


"I S-SAID: G-GET OUT! P-PUPPY'S REAL AND I W-WANT HIM NOW!"  


"Shh...you're right, you're right. Puppy _is_ real," I conceded, not getting any closer. 

He raised his head and glanced at me, panting and weeping. "Y-YOU SAID...L-LIAR!"  


"I know, I know what I said. I thought that...as you couldn't find him..." I wanted to improvise, but I was too scared to use my brain properly. "What I told you doesn't matter, Puppy exists...don't cry. Please let me get close to you, Frankie, _I love you_."  


"Y-you lied! Y-you said s-something horri-ble! Th-that's mean!" He lowered his tone, the angst and hurt still present.  


"I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry...I saw you so worried for Puppy that I didn't know what to say..." I cautiously made my way to him on all fours. He cried louder, yet didn't stop me.  


"Wh-where's Puppy?" he asked, his voice imperceptibly if I hadn't been so close.  


"I don't know...maybe he's just hiding very well?" I guessed. 

Frank meditated while he played with the cords of my sneakers, tears falling endlessly on them. "Uh...h-he becomes in...inv...invi-sible. In-invisible, that...m-maybe?" He met my eyes and I saw it in his face that he was being serious. It was a perfectly coherent, _reasonable_ theory for him.  


Goldberg would probably kill me for using it.

"Yeah, it could be that! Maybe Puppy can get invisible once in a while."  


"Y-yeah I th-think so..." he whispered with a little smile. 

I closed the scarce distance between us and kissed his forehead. He moved ahead and hugged me.  


"You'll see your doggie again, don't worry. We'll leave him food here and I'm sure he'll eat it. Now we better have breakfast before Ray comes." I got up with him in my arms and dropped him on a chair.  


"Y-yeah, or he'll e-eat all my c-cereal!" Frankie giggled. He looked tired and still a little troubled; but the invisible-dog hypothesis had made him feel better and the medication had _just_ kicked in, so he was at least calm.  


******  


The following day Frankie saw Puppy several times, feeling immensely happy that he hadn't lost him. He didn't seem worried anymore. Whenever he couldn't find his pet, he just scolded him and ordered him to become visible. Of course Puppy didn't always obey, and in those cases Frankie had some long arguments with the air. I knew it wasn't the most normal situation and it'd probably only work until Frankie didn't see the dog at all, but I could breathe for a while and have more time to think of a better solution.  


Ray wasn't in complete agreement with how I'd managed the problem. He said I should have insisted with the truth. Nevertheless, when I explained how angry Frank was acting, he could understand why I had been afraid of going on with the original plan.  


About Frank's other hallucinations, I noticed that he still talked to them when alone and stopped as soon as he saw me appear. It was as if he was ashamed of being caught doing it now that he knew they weren't real.  


Nothing like what occurred that afternoon on the couch had happened again, only the usual kisses and touches. We did grow more comfortable on that last area since then, though never going too far. The only premeditated thing when it came to us was my decision to let Frankie lead the way. I didn't know what would be next. Ours was a spontaneous, slow paced relationship. It was romantic.

Frankie spent a lot of time looking at magazines, sometimes reading some random parts to me. He had also been drawing a lot more, using the correct colors now. He'd drawn us all -including Bob- except Mikey. I supposed Frank was still angry at him after he heard us fight. While watching him draw, I often wondered why he never included his imaginary friends, but I didn't think it was convenient to mention it. It was maybe better that way and I had disregarded Goldberg's advices enough.  


******

I was cleaning the kitchen after being back from work while Frank played in the living room with some wooden building blocks that I'd found in my closet. I had been placing them into a new box to give to a little neighbor next door when Frankie saw me and his eyes lightened up. He had begged me to let him keep them and I'd had no reason to refuse. If he enjoyed children toys, I wouldn't oppose it. What's more, I believed anything that fomented creativity was good for him.  


Hearing Frank talk, I tiptoed to the living room and observed him from far away. A house of blocks had been built over the coffee table, and he was now having a conversation with someone near him on the floor.

"N-no!" he laughed. "Y-you can't...at-attack him like th-that! I'd g-get into t-trouble! Y-yes, I would! And...and b-besides...Gee s-said you're not r-real and the o-others can't see y-you."  


"What the..." I flinched when hearing that, continuing to listen on the sly.  


"I kn-know!" Frank rolled his eyes. "I kn-know you're real. I s-see you, s-silly people! Duh! D-dunno why they c-can't. B-but it's l-like that, only _I_ c-can 'cause I'm s-special," he nodded proudly. 

Following a sudden urge to kiss him, I made myself noticeable. Frank returned to his blocks, dissimulating.  


"Hi baby, that's a pretty house! You were talking to your little army there?" I asked him casually after crashing my lips against his.  


"Uh? N-no I wasn't."  


"Frankie...I saw you." I didn't intend it to sound like a reprimand, and hoped he wouldn't take it like that.  


"I...th-they were...I m-mean I s-saw them and..." he looked down embarrassed. 

I sat beside him and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. "The other day when we talked about it, you asked me if you could keep on speaking to them. Do you remember what I answered?"  


"Y-yeah...that I c-could, that it w-was okay."  


"Then why are you ashamed? You don't have to, really. Do you like talking to them?"  


"Y-yes, th-they're funny and m-my friends." He smiled.  


"Then everything's fine," I assured him. "You can still have them as friends and talk, I don't mind. Please, don't stop if someone enters the room. Just remember they're not real, that's enough."  


"B-but people will n-notice and say I'm c-crazy."  


"And then I'll be there to kick their asses! I'll always take care of you, anyone who makes my beautiful special boy upset will end up with a sore ass."  


"Y-yay! Th-the little people s-say they'll k-kick them too!" he laughed. 

My curiosity resurged. "How do they look? I know they're similar to normal people but...how tall? And how do they dress?"  


We were on the floor, my back leaning on the couch and Frank reclined against my chest. I knew he adored conversing with me about his things and certainly enjoyed when people paid attention to him. He had once told me that not many did at the institution, because they said he took too long to speak and it bored them. I had never found the way Frank spoke boring or annoying, and he luckily didn't have any complex about it.

"Th-they're this t-tall," he showed me with his thumb and index finger. "And...m-most of times...th-they dress normally. L-like...jeans and sh-shirts. B-but sometimes, if th-they get an-angry they d-dress like...l-like...fuck, h-how's the word? S-solders?"  


"You mean _soldiers_?" I reached for a magazine where I remembered to have seen a certain pic. 

"Like this?"  


"Y-yeah!" he nodded.  


"Then it's soldier, yes. They were dressed like that now? I heard they wanted to attack somebody..."  


"Uh...y-yes. T-told them they c-can't." He looked up biting his bottom lip.  


"Who do they want to attack?"  


"M-mikey," he murmured. "Th-they're angry 'c-cause he made you s-sad."  


"He didn't make me sad. We had a little discussion, but everything's fine now. Tell your army that they don't have to attack," I reassured him. He tended to transfer some of his insecurities and worries to his hallucinations.  


"S-sure?"  


"Yep. Anyway, how do they attack?"  


"Th-they have s-swords. B-but they're so l-little that if they p-pinch you, it...it's like b-big mos-quitos. On-only that it b-bleeds! Th-they like to kick asses m-more, but th-they're too small so they c-can't reach as-asses and have to c-climb people," he expose enthusiastically, moving his hands around a lot to emphasize his words.  


"Oh, that must be something funny to see!" I laughed.  


"Y-yes, it is!"  


"You know? I bought you a present," I announced. 

He quickly got to his feet and his eyes opened up huge as plates. "Sh-show me!"  


"It's hidden here." I retrieved a large hard covered book from below the couch's cushion. "Tell me if you like it."  


He took it from my hands, placed it on the table and touched the cover with a giant grin on his lips. When he opened it, I would have sworn the grin reached his ears. "W-wow, animals! L-love it!" he applauded. 

It was an encyclopedia for kids. It had lots of big, detailed pictures and simple facts and information on each animal. I thought that to start with, it would be better for him to practice reading and comprehension with a subject that he was passionate and knew something about already.  


"Yeah?"  


He hugged me and kissed my cheek so hard that it hurt. "Th-thanks Gee!"   


"Glad you like it, baby. Don't read it all at once, so we can use it to practice as the doctor suggested."  


"B-but we can p-practice now!"  


"Oh, if you want to...of course! Then choose an animal and read what it says. Don't rush, take your time time because then you'll have to tell me about it. Do you understand?"  


"Y-yeah!" He searched through the pages back and forth several times until he finally chose the dolphin. I waited patiently, admiring how pretty he looked concentrating on his reading, frowning now and then.  


"R-ready!" he declared fifteen minutes later. Even though there wasn't much to read, I still thought it might be a little soon.  


"Ok, what did you learn about the dolphin? You don't need to use the words from the book, tell me with your own."  


"D-dolphins are..." he doubted, scratching his head. "I...I c-can't. D-don't know, don't r-remember. Gu-guess I'm r-retarded like people s-say," he pouted.  


"Oh no, Frankie! _Never_ say that word again! You're _not_. Some things are a little more difficult for you, it's all. That's why you need to practice. This is the first time, so it's ok. It's totally normal." I smiled to him.  


"K-kay."  


"Read it again but...read _each_ sentence many times, slowly, until you're sure that you understood what it says. Only then go to the next one. And if you don't understand some word you ask me, ok? It doesn't matter if you can't remember everything, we're just starting, even if it's just some little facts it'll be fine."  


"Y-yes, kay."

While Frankie went back to his task, I entertained myself with a music magazine. Less then five minutes had passed when the bell rang.  


I was surprised to see my mother at the door. It was almost night and she had to work. "Mom...what are you doing here?"    


"I came for Frankie," she scarcely answered.  


"What the fuck...?"  


"D-donna!" The boy ran to her and was welcomed by motherly arms and tender kisses.  


"Hi, pretty! I came to take you home with me," mom informed him. What had she meant? Something about the way she acted was odd, it didn't give me a good feeling.  


"Yay! G-gee, we're g-going to her h-house!" Frank celebrated. "W-we're gonna go in the t-train?"  


"Yes, Frankie, we'll go by train. But Gerard's not coming, only you and me. You're gonna stay with me for some time."  


"What are you talking about, mom?" I didn't understand anything.  


"N-NO! I w-wanna go with G-gee! N-no...why? D-don't want to, th-then!" Frankie cried out.  


"Mom...please tell me what this is about..."  


"It's better for him, Gerard," she replied, going straight to our room. I followed as she picked up Frank's backpack and began to stuff it with clothes.  


"STOP AND FUCKING TALK TO ME!" I snatched it from her hands and threw it towards the other side of the room. "Mikey told you, didn't he? That bastard _had_ to tell you and he surely gave you his own mental version of it!"

She calmly went for the discharged bag and continued to fill it while she responded. "No, he didn't. I accidentally heard him talking about it with Alicia, they didn't know I was home. Of course then I asked him and yes, he _had_ to tell me." I couldn't stand her serenity, I felt like I was being part of a big, cruel prank.   


"And your mind is as dirty as his? Do you also think I'm a monster?" I spat, trying not to scream. 

Frankie stood by the door, watching us and crying in silence. His expression was one of total commotion, inner turmoil awaiting to be released. 

My mother sighed and finally looked at me. "No, son, don't get me wrong. I _know_ you, I'm your mother. I'm sure there's no bad intention and you'd never force Frankie to do anything..."  


"Then why...?"  


"I still think you two having some kind of...relationship like this will not help Frankie. It'll confuse him even more," she spoke as low as possible."Of course he feels things, he's 18 after all. But he can't fully _understand_ them. So at least until he's a little more stable, I think it'll be better if he doesn't live with you."  


"N-NO! Nonononononono...p-please wanna be with G-gee! H-he takes c-care of me and l-loves me, D-donna please!" Frankie pleaded on his knees, clutching her long skirt.  


"I'll take care of you too, and you'll be able to see Gerard some days, I promise."  


"N-NO BUT...N-NO! AL-ALWAYS!"  


"Mom, you're crazy. You work, you _can't_ even watch him all the time!" I tried to get to her from another perspective.  


"Alicia can help me, and also a friend from the hospital that has a different schedule," she solved my doubt without hesitating.  


"But Mikey doesn't..."  


"Mikey will have to accept it, I don't care," she cut me off.  


"Mom please, don't do this. We're fine here, he's doing fine!" I chased her to the kitchen where she grabbed Frank's pills.  


My mother stopped and put a hand on my shoulder, staring into my eyes. She didn't seem angry, just deeply concerned. I felt like dying, she was about to take my life away from me. My heart was breaking and so was Frank's, I knew it. He clung to me and we cried together, helpless and hopeless.  


"Gerard, don't make this any harder, it's worse for Frankie. He'll be ok, I won't hide him from you!" She caressed my hair.  


"Please...p-please no...I need him, he n-needs me..." I sobbed.  


"Maybe some time in the future. I don't think anything bad of you son, I swear. I love you. I might even reconsider it, but right now this is the best thing to do. Don't fight, please."  


"Ok...d-don't forget the book I bought him," I muttered defeated. Fighting would only make the situation more stressing for the boy. "Frankie baby...go with her, she'll be very good to you and will cook all your favorite meals. I'll see you very very soon, don't be afraid. We'll be together again..." I kissed his lips one last time. My mother didn't say a word about it.  


Tears kept falling from Frank's eyes, fogging his glasses. His look was blank, as if someone had taken away his soul. He didn't seem to register anything; he was deaf, mute, gone. My mom took him by the hand and he walked behind dragging his feet like a zombie. 

Same as Frankie I didn't see anything more, didn't hear anything more.  


Two hours later I was still lying on the floor, in the dark, with no more tears to cry and no more brains to think. Like Frankie had done earlier -only this was my own decision- I left my house like a living dead. Only God knows how I wasn't killed by a car. I couldn't see where I was going, my legs had a life of their own. All my senses were numb.  


The next thing I registered, I was back at home with two bottles of whiskey and no reason to stop me from drinking them. I was alone, I was useless, I was meaningless.  


_Nights get longer and colder,  
I'm down and begging to hold ya.  
On my own and I feel like  
hell is living without you._


	28. Chapter 28

_I don't have plans and schemes,  
and I don't have hopes and dreams  
I don't have anything  
since I don't have you._

As a pathetic replay of that whole week before I met Frank, I half lied in bed with one open whiskey bottle in my hand. The same bed that had been our bed for more than a month, the bed that kept his strawberry smell. How would I be able to sleep on it by myself? How would sleep come to me without having him in my arms, without feeling his soft hair in between my fingers, without watching him breathe peacefully and smile in his dream until my own eyes give in?  


And then...who would I wake up for, work for, go back home for... _live_ for? Yes, I could still do it for myself, but that's easier said than done. At the moment I wasn't able to find any reasons. I had been living _for Frankie_. It wasn't that I had stopped my own life for him, no; _I didn't have one_ before I met him. He became my motive, my strength, my support.

Without even knowing it, he helped me more than anyone had ever done. Whenever I felt down, just seeing his smile would light up my day. Thanks to him I'd learned that we could be happy with very little. He had taught me what _true_ love was; love that wasn't born from lust, love without the need of sex.  


Just when I had reached that divine realization of having everything I needed, of my life being very close to complete, it was stolen from my hands. At that point when I was feeling that no difficulty -and I knew we had several ahead- would be too hard to go through as long as we were together...I was left alone again.

I needed Frank and I knew he needed me. I could see that he was fine when we were together, our relationship hadn't caused him any harm. He was better, happier. Why couldn't the others see that too? Why hadn't my mother paid attention to the facts instead of using the infamous 'this could be bad for Frank'? Our love _couldn't_ be bad, love can _never_ be bad.  


Why hadn't I fought more? Why hadn't I been able to stop her? I wanted to, but that would have meant arguing longer in front of Frank. That, for sure, _wouldn't_ have been good for him. Now I wondered...what was worst?  


Questions kept revolving in my mind as the clear liquid in the bottle disappeared.

By the second bottle my head was a blur, light and confused. Nevertheless my body felt so heavy that I thought it could make a hole through the mattress. My emotions were mixed up, I had begun to question it all again, to wonder if my mother may be right after all. The alcohol hadn't taken away the pain, though; it was still there, deep inside my heart. Pain, anger, desperation. I had tried to drown them, but I only succeeded at numbing my reasoning; and even being nearly incapable of thinking anymore, those feelings wouldn't leave me.

I lost count of how much time I stayed like that, feeling although no longer thinking. No idea of when it was that all my senses abandoned me, giving me the sweet relief of sleep. I knew nothing more until a sharp pain in my stomach woke me up. I was drenched in cold sweat and had an awful taste in my mouth. Just to open my eyes hurt like fuck, and my legs threatened to not support my weight as soon as my feet touched the floor.  


My head spun as I stumbled my way to the bathroom, finally collapsing in front of the toilet. Embracing the comforting coolness of the porcelain, I emptied the contains of my stomach. I grasped the sink and helped myself up, washing my mouth and my face, feeling one pain subside and the other, deadlier one, come back to life.  


As I entered the kitchen to hide the evidence from the previous night, the clock welcomed me with its hands signaling 10 a.m. It was Friday, I was _very_ late to work. Where was Ray? Why hadn't I heard him calling? Why hadn't he gotten into the house if he had the keys?  


"Oh, mom must have called him." I voiced to the air. How would I survive the silence? 

Again, I started to think of all the things I'd usually do with Frankie, and I wasn't able to stop the new tears falling. I knew, however, that I had to be strong; Frankie couldn't see me like this the next time we saw each other. Because I _would_ see him again, I _had_ to see him again. They couldn't ban me from spending time with my sweet boy, my love. That thought, that hope, was the only reason to go on, but it wasn't enough. I needed him here, with me.  


My head hurt too much and I didn't feel like having breakfast, so I just sat there, staring blankly at the wall. Seconds, minutes, hours? I couldn't tell.  


Through the mental mist of my pitiful hangover, an unmistakable sound hit my eardrums. A sound I had never liked before, yet I learned to love because it was Frankie's. The purple beaded mobile was tinkling in announcement, and I ran to the door as fast as my sore body allowed.  


Was I the one hallucinating now? Next to the entrance and placing a soaked umbrella -soaked by a rain I didn't know was falling- against the door, was my mother. Beside her, struggling to get rid of an ugly blue raincoat, was Frankie. _My_ Frankie. His hair unbrushed, his semblance pale, his windowed eyes puffy, red and restless.

"Oh my God, baby...you're here!" I strode towards him and hugged him tightly, lifting him off the ground. He didn't respond at first, but then I felt his short legs cling to my waist and his shaking arms to my neck. His sweet lips crashed desperately against my cheek.  


"I...I m-missed you Gee, s-so so m-much. I w-wanna stay with y-you, p-please tell h-her..." he spoke with a half voice that wasn't easy to hear. 

Frank had never talked about missing his friends, or the institution, or even Grace. Now here he was telling _me_ that he missed me during the only night we had been apart.  


"You don't have any idea how much I missed _you_ , Frankie..." 

I looked at my mom, still standing there in silence with glassy eyes. I read the regret, I perceived it; a shadow towering above her. I didn't want to reproach her and cause another argument, but my eyes must have betrayed me because she lowered her face, distressed.  


"I'm sorry Gerard, I'm so sorry, I acted following my first impulse. When I saw how Frankie is when he doesn't have you...that made me question myself completely. I won't deny that I still had some doubts while coming here, I was afraid that I might regret bringing him back; but now that I see you I know I won't. You've suffered too and it's all my fault...I'm sorry, son..." she said caressing my cheek. 

I flinched and receded.  


Could she notice that I had been drinking? I prayed that she would only think I'd been crying all night -which was also true after all. I didn't want to disappoint my mother like that, I needed her to trust me and believe that I was reliable to be in charge of Frankie.  


"You...then you mean...Frankie can stay?" That was all I cared about.  


"Yes, he can," she nodded with a weak smile. "I don't know how you two are gonna handle this situation, what you're feeling for each other. I still find it hard to believe and it'll take me some time to get used to it...but you deserve an opportunity. Last night...all along the way while we were on the train Frankie didn't say a word or look at me, he just followed like a robot. When we got home and he finally reacted, he just started to cry and repeat that he wanted to go back to you. He _never_ stopped crying. He didn't eat, didn't sleep, didn't want to take his pill. Early in the morning I gave him some ice cream and managed to calm him down long enough to talk."  


"What did he say to you?" I asked, wanting to know and at the same time a little concerned. I hoped the boy hadn't commented on what happened a couple of days ago on the couch. Probably not, or my mother wouldn't be giving me Frank back.

"He told me what that John kid did to him," her voice trembled. "and the conversation you had about it. Said you weren't angry and explained things to him. I'd never seen Frankie so serious...the way he kept the eye contact all the time honestly surprised me. He assured me that you take care of him very well and would never hurt him."  


"I...t-told her that I l-love you. A l-lot, and you l-love me, and we w-wanna be b-boyfriends." Frankie was almost voiceless, and now I knew it was due to crying for hours.  


"He's right, mom. We love each other and want to be boyfriends. You can be sure -and you _should_ have known- that I'd never _ever_ do anything that could hurt Frankie, physically or mentally. We could have discussed it here if you had only listened, you know?" I spat with refrained anger. "You just came and did what you considered better and you never thought of me! You say you thought about Frankie? Well, you didn't listen to what he was telling you either!"  


"I know..." She covered her mouth, suffocating a sob as she became aware of how wrong her whole proceeding had been. "...I should have trusted your words instead of thinking so much. Frankie made me see my mistake. He could never hide anything, this kid's transparent. Everything should have been clear to me just by looking into his eyes and listening to both of you, but I guess I was blind and deaf with the surprise. It's evident that you've changed for good since you have taken care of Frankie, and he's so happy..."  


"Yes, all that should have been enough!" I cried out. Frankie's scared expression told me to hold myself. "So he didn't have any pills since last morning?"  


"No...today after we talked he began to cry and plead again. It was impossible to get him to do anything at all so I decided to come over here without delay."  


"Thank you." I sobbed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."  


"Y-yes...th-thank you, Donna! B-but...for wh-what? Wh-why you crying, G-gerard?" Frankie was suddenly confused. We laughed, finally relaxing.  


"You know, boys?" My mom glanced at us, Frankie still in my arms. "You look like shit. Gerard, give Frankie his medication and then go to bed. I'll prepare breakfast and serve you both there."  


"But...oh fuck! The store! Sarah! And what happened to Ray?" Everything came back to me at once.  


"I called Ray last night and told him Frankie was with me. And don't worry, I'll phone your boss to tell her you overslept because you're sick and that I don't think you can work today," she answered smiling. "Now go, poor Frankie has been unmedicated for more than 24 hours. _My fault_ , I know."

Minutes later we were hugging each other in bed. The previous night seemed only a bad memory and the idea of sleeping alone was unthinkable. My mother had understood, she had seen what was obvious to me: _there can be no wrong where there's love._

******  


Sarah told my mom that I didn't have to work the following day either. It was my chance to do another three-hour trip and visit the shelter where Frank had first lived. Bob had said to count him in, so I called him. After those last days' sad moments I was willing to laugh, and with Frankie and Bob in the same car you had your fun guaranteed.  


We left the house as soon as Bob arrived. I handed him a portable mini fridge with sandwiches and sodas and we got in the car, Frankie beaming with happiness. His voice still sounded a little weird while he sang some random tune from some even more random TV show for kids. He watched a lot of those when he wasn't seeing cheesy love movies. The innocent, preteen-first-love ones, since any others were too boring for him. Sometimes he watched horror movies with me, though 'watch' was only a saying; he always ended up hiding his face in the crook of my neck for most of the movie.

"Those glasses are really bad-ass, Frankie!" Bob told him.  


"Uh?"  


"That they're cool, you look great with them," he explained.  


"Ahh, y-yeah! And...and n-now I can s-see everything!"  


"That's even cooler! What do you think of my ugly face now?" my friend interrogated him. 

I had just started the car and couldn't see Frankie, but the silence indicated that he was examining Bob's face.  


"Uh...y-you're not ugly! Y-you're...funny!" he giggled. "And...and your h-hair's yellow and you h-have pretty eyes l-like the color of...of th-the sky. Yep! B-but gotta shave, you l-look like a b-bear. B-bob the bear!"  


"Well, that's not so bad. Maybe I'll shave next time I see you, so you can tell me if I look better," Bob said. "Your eyes are prettier, though. They're sometimes green and sometimes brown. Mine are boring, always the same color."  


"B-but yours are not f-fucked up..." Frank stopped and I saw his head appear at my side, looking at something in the front part of the car's interior.  


"Frankie, why did you unfasten your belt?"  


"I d-didn't, just m-made it looser."  


"Well, make it _tighter_ again..."  


"J-just a minute!"  


"Frankie..."  


"Wh-what are you d-doing here? N-no, I know you l-like Gee's c-car so much but n-no one said you could c-come! N-not even Puppy c-came and he w-wanted to!" The receiver of his talk changed. It seemed the gnomes were back in the glove compartment. He had been seeing all his imaginary friends again since the previous day, probably because of the stress provoked by the last events and having interrupted the medication.

"Who are you talking to, kiddo?" Bob asked.  


"Th-the gnomes, they're m-my friends. I kn-know you c-can't see them, G-gee told me. 'C-cause I'm s-special and you're n-not."  


"Hey! This kid stuck out his tongue to me!" Bob protested playfully.  


"Oh, don't get me into your fights, you're grown up kids already!" I laughed.  


"Can I ask the gnomes questions and you tell me what they answer?" Bob proposed.  


"Y-yeah, ask." Frank liked the idea and I wasn't going to object to it.  


"What do they think of me?"  


"Come on, Bob! Can't it be something not related to yourself?" I chuckled. He always wanted to know what _everybody_ thought of him. Not even the imaginary gnomes where safe from that.  


"Shh, G-man! Wanna know!"  


"Th-they say your b-beard's ugly and...and th-theirs are b-better and you...you c-can't be a g-gnome 'cause you're too b-big!"  


"Oh, no! I was hoping to become one!" Through the mirror I could see Bob grab his head dramatically. He was such a clown, but Frankie was laughing a lot and so was I; healing through laughter.  


They continued with the questions and answers -the most absurd ones imaginable- for a long period of time; and all of the gnomes' replies according to Frank were so hilarious that they brought us to tears. 

When we got to the route, the landscape distracted him. "W-wow! I c-can see all the an-animals now! Th-the cow, the o-other cow, and m-more cows th-there, and m-more but black...and th-the horses and a wh-white horse and a h-house and also p-people and..." he listed everything. "...Gee!"  


"Yes?"  


"C-can't we g-get out and...and go see the an-animals?"  


"No, we can't do that here."  


"Wh-why? 'C-cause the cows can c-call their f-friends and...and th-then a lot m-more come and then th-they call all th-the animals and they...r-run over us 'cause they d-don't want us to g-go see them? It...it's th-that, Gee?"  


"Oh my, I love this kid!" Bob laughed hysterically. "He _owns_ so much!"  


"No Frankie, it's not because of that, only that I can't stop the car here, it's not safe," I explicated, chuckling at his random idea too.  


"Ahh," he said seriously. "B-but I wanna see th-them."  


"One of these days I'll take you to a farm."  


"Th-there're elephants there?"  


"No...but there are cows, pigs, sheep, chickens... Elephants are in the zoo, have you been to a zoo?"  


"N-no, saw them in m-movies. S-some kids went, b-but they said I c-couldn't."  


"Why was that?" Bob questioned.  


"N-not safe for F-frankie," the boy answered in that odd tone he used to quote other people.  


"He doesn't have any notion of danger, he doesn't seem able to understand it or recognize it," I filled Bob in about one of Frank's mental alterations.  


"Oh..."  


"It's not such a big deal, you only have to keep him watched. But I guess it was easier for them to leave him out of the visit to the zoo than have someone taking him by the hand all the time to make sure he wouldn't get in trouble. Classical incompetence," I spoke bitterly.  


"Classical _assholes_!" Bob exclaimed.  


"Y-yeah, assholes! I...I'm a g-good boy!" Frankie added.  


"Of course you are, Gee-man and I will take you to both a farm and a zoo one day, you'll see."  


"Y-yes! B-bob is awe-some! R-right, Gee?"  


I laughed. "Yes, he is!"

We finally arrived to the place. It was an old two-story house; big, though not huge. Its walls, that had once been white, were gray and moldy. There was no garden and not even much grass, the soil too dry and cracked for something to grow on it. No sign could be seen telling it was a shelter. It was probably one of those places that weren't _exactly_ legal. The government knew about them and even sustained them because it meant less abandoned kids to care about; but they usually kept them undercover.

The three of us got out of the car this time. I considered it'd be no danger if Frankie was seen by someone. When we got closer, the boy froze and looked at the house scared, taking in the details without blinking. Then he began to walk backwards, his eyes still fixed on the building.  


"Frankie...what's wrong? You remember this house?" I inquired.  


"Y-yes...I...d-don't wanna...no...d-don't take me th-there, no. I D-DON'T WANT TO!"  


"Ok, ok, you can stay in the car with Bob. Wanna tell me why it scares you? Were they bad to you here?"  


"One...one m-man. H-he hit me s-sometimes and..and it h-hurt! H-he was evil. S-screamed at us and b-beat us."  


"Why would he hit you?" The more I knew about Frank's past, the more people I added to my black list. I couldn't understand how someone would want to hit Frankie, even less when he was not much older than 4!  


"'C-cause I peed in my b-bed or...d-don't know what el-else, d-don't remember. B-but he was an as-asshole. D-don't wanna see h-him!"  


"Baby," I put my hands on his shoulders and looked right into his eyes. "if he was so bad I don't think he's still here. And even if he was...now you're with us, he can't do anything to you. We're just going to ask some questions and then we'll go home, I promise. Anyway, you can stay here with Bob if you want to."  


"If...if y-you're not g-gonna let him h-hurt me, then I'll g-go," he whispered.  


"Bob and I will kick the ass of whoever tries to hurt you."  


"Super Bob will give that guy what he deserves!" my blond friend gave his word.

As we entered the building, the stench of urine made my nostrils sting. I saw Bob cover his nose, uncomfortable about the same thing. There was dirt and spider webs everywhere, and it hadn't been repainted in years; it was impossible to make out the color of the walls. You could hear lots of children crying and screaming, while others were singing together with an adult. Frankie walked so close to me that I had to be careful not to trip over his feet.  


We neared a very messy desk, behind which a girl was copying something from a very old, shattered notebook to a more modern agenda. There was no computer in sight, technology hadn't reached this forgotten shelter.  


"Sorry, may I ask you a question?" I addressed her. 

The brunette eyed me with her bored brown eyes, chewing on her gum like a cow. "Yeah?"  


"Is there someone who's worked here for fifteen years or more?"  


"Uh..." she scratched her head thinking. "...yeah, I think there are at least two women. My mother worked here for ten years before she left me her place, and they were already here when she started."  


"Could I talk to them?"  


"Only one works today. HEY, GENE! Watch over here while I go find Maria!" she asked a guy who was fixing a window. As if she had something valuable there that we could steal...  


The secretary came back ten minutes later with a slow-walking woman who was no more than 50, though her hair was prematurely gray and her eyes showed the tiredness of years. Maria smiled warmly at us as she shook our hands, and I did remember to introduce myself this time. I could see Frank -who was hidden behind me- looking at the woman intensely, probably finding her familiar.  


"How can I help you, young men?" she asked.  


"Did you already work here fifteen years ago?"  


"I've been working here for exactly sixteen years, why?"  


"I'm collecting information about Frank Iero, I know he was brought here around then when he was 4. Not sure of how many years he spent in this place, though," I said. Frankie was still gripping my arm with both his, but he wasn't hiding anymore.  


"Oh yes, I remember him." Maria meditated and then suddenly looked at Frank, smiling. "But...is it you, Frankie?"  


"Y-yeah, I'm F-frankie."  


"I'm Maria, do you remember me? I'd take care of you sometimes and I also helped you learn to speak...together with another woman who used to work here before, Martha." She ruffled his hair.  


"Y-yes, I r-remember you! Y-you kicked the evil m-man once 'cause...'c-cause he hit m-me."  


"Yes, I did! He _deserved_ it." She then looked at me. "Did you...adopt him?"  


"Something like that, better said I _found_ him, long story. Would you tell me as much as you know about him?" I felt a little impolite, but I was anxious.  


"Of course, follow me."  


She guided us to an even dirtier room with no windows. The only illumination was an antique lamp in a corner. She grabbed it -its cord conveniently long- and aimed it towards a shelving full of cardboard boxes, each one labeled with a year. The heat was unbearable, and it was too humid. 

"Uh...which year would that be?"  


"Let's see...either...1992 or 1993." I reasoned, feeling drops of perspiration running down my face.  


"Yeah...I think it was winter, so most probably '93. Let's see." she took out that box, the smell of the old moistened cardboard more perceivable. Then she rummaged through the alphabetically organized files inside. "I wanna be sure I'm not mixing his information with any other kid's in my head, you know? It's been a long time. Here it is!"  


"Oh, good!" Bob, who had been in silence so far, exclaimed. He was as curious as I by then.

Maria motioned for us to follow her out of the room; it wasn't a place to stay long. We took a seat on a greasy, green bench against a wall.  


"Frank Anthony Iero, 4 years old. His own mother brought him here, she alleged she couldn't cope with his problems," she read the file.  


"And you don't do anything about parents like that here?" I asked indignant.  


"No, that's how things are in this place. Parents that otherwise would leave their kids in the street, come here because they _know_ we won't ask much; only a voluntary money donation and the kid's ID to take note of the whole name and date of birth," she explained, still studying the paper before her. "We don't even keep the ID's, unless they _choose_ to leave them, but it wasn't the case."  


"Tell me whatever you can find there or anything you remember, please," I begged her.  


"Ok...when Frankie arrived here he had _just_ learned how to walk. He'd still fall down rather often, though he was very hyperactive and rarely stopped moving anyway."  


"You mentioned that you helped him learn to speak..."  


"Yes, he only spoke a few random words, the rest of the time he would just scream or cry when he wanted something. It took us nearly two years to get him to speak enough to communicate. We had to teach him or make him practice during the scarce moments when we'd manage to get his attention, so it wasn't easy. After that he attended kindergarten for at least...one year and a half, maybe a little more, until he left. He enjoyed it very much, back then we had a lovely teacher who volunteered here," she related.  


"Did Frankie really have schizophrenia since so early?"  


"He did. His mother mentioned how he'd act weird sometimes, and here we noticed that his nervous episodes were a lot worse than you could expect from a child, even an hyperactive one. Other times he seemed absent, or he'd touch the air and smile as if he was seeing something. He was examined by a psychiatrist like all children here, this is the diagnosis..." she handed me a paper that had been attached to the file.  


"Frank Iero presents early Schizophrenia, to which he was surely propense to; but probably developed symptoms at a younger age due to brain damage caused by head trauma. Said lesion is also the causative of learning retardation, speech impediment and other possible problems that might or might not make themselves evident with time, since it's not easy to know at such a young age. Antipsychotics are not recommended for small children if not strictly necessary, although mild sedatives could be tolerated," I read.  


"They gave him sedatives for three years, though the 'mild' part was only occasionally respected. I always tried to stop them from sedating him too much, but some days when the kid was more nervous they'd leave him drooling like a zombie. Then when Frankie was 7, he started to have like...panic attacks over things only he could see, so they changed to antipsychotics," Maria recalled. It was a sadly usual thing to do in many public places.  


"No one could do something more against that?"  


"Sadly, no. It's the same as with that jerk who used to hit the kids. The rest of us tried to get him fired, but no one pays attention to simple employees. And...these children were either found in the streets or abandoned here. They don't have parents to look after them and denounce when things are done wrongly. All we could do was to implant some justice by our own hands. He finally _decided_ to leave." She smirked remembering something. "The only reason why I keep working here, same as another friend of mine, is to ensure that at least someone treats the kids as human beings."  


I observed Frankie who was playing to catch a paper ball with Bob, not succeeding much but laughing all the same. 

The woman followed my gaze. "It's so good to see him well and happy. When Frank left this place I thought about him for a long time, wondering what would be of him. Developing a mental illness like that at such a young age is never good. I was afraid, to tell the truth."  


"Yes, his case is pretty serious. Luckily the medication does help. And now that you mentioned it, there's a point I'm especially interested to know about: who took him out of here?" I couldn't think of anyone, his mother was out of the question.  


"During his..." she searched through the papers in her hand. "...fourth year here, his grandmother came for him."  


My eyes opened wide with surprise. Grandmother? The one I had talked to? It couldn't be, she thought Frank was dead. "His father's mother?"  


"No, his mother's."  


	29. Chapter 29

_I...  
I was standing.  
You were there.  
Two worlds collided.  
And they could never ever tear us apart._

"His maternal grandmother?" I asked in disbelief. Every answer I got brought up even more questions.  


"Yes, I remember everything as if it had happened yesterday, it was rather peculiar. The first time I talked to Frank's grandma it was on the phone, she'd _just_ learned that she had a grandson who lived here and called us desperate. The name and date of birth she mentioned matched Frank's..."  


"How did she get to know?" I interrupted Maria while trying to figure things out. "From what I found out, after bringing Frank here, his mother told everybody that the kid had died..."  


"Aha, this poor lady was shocked and spilled everything to me. It was like this: her daughter talked to a friend and confessed that she'd had a son who died at the age of 4. Though that girl was asked not to tell anybody, she found it too important to keep it secret, specially from her friend's mother. As soon as Frank's grandmother was given that information, she traveled immediately to talk to her daughter."  


"And Frank's mother admitted the truth _just like that?_ "  


"No...she told her mother that the boy's health had always been poor and he finally died from a virus or something like that. But...when the woman was leaving, a neighbor passed her bye in a rush and put a piece of paper in her hand," she recounted mysteriously.  


"What did it..."  


"It said: 'the kid's not dead, insist. Just forget that you knew this from me.' Seems out of a movie, uh?" Maria chuckled. 

Someone could have thought that she found the situation funny, but I understood that wasn't the case. She did care, she cared _a lot_ for the kids -or she wouldn't have paid attention to us. Maria didn't find Frank's story funny, it wasn't that; she was only a tired woman who had worked in a dark, sad place for years. She particularly remembered those stories that had been interesting or out of the ordinary, maybe a doleful replacement for the TV shows she didn't have the time to watch.  


I didn't reply right away since I was, again, thinking; attempting to connect that new fragment of information to what I had previously obtained. Who had given Frankie's grandma the note? It couldn't have been the neighbor I had talked to, or she would have commented about it.  
Then I came up with another hypothesis: it may well have been the _other_ neighbor, the one who had refused to help me; and that could be the reason why she did. She had spoken enough already, presumably even gotten into trouble because of it.

"Yes, so far everything related to Frankie seems out of a _very sad_ movie. What happened then?" I asked impatient. "Did Frank's grandma go back to her daughter after reading that note?"  


"Not right away. She waited until the following day to face her daughter and then told her that she _knew_ Frank wasn't dead. The grandma pushed and pushed until the girl confessed, and threatened to forget about their blood bond and denounce her if she didn't tell her where the kid was. I suppose the woman forced Frankie's data out of her daughter too, and that's how she got to us," Maria completed, massaging her neck and making it crackle. She didn't notice me flinching at the annoying sound and continued to do so.  


"But there's one thing I don't understand: if Frankie's grandma came for him, why did he end up in a mental institution?" I questioned, rather confused. Bob and Frankie were still playing with the paper ball, now sitting on the floor. Frank appeared to have momentarily forgotten about the bad memories that place hid for him.  


"That first time after we talked, I put the psychiatrist on the line and he explicated all about Frank's condition to her. She was devastated before hanging up. A couple of days later, she showed up here crying. An old woman with a cane, I remember that. She told us how she'd have _loved_ Frankie to live with her, that she would have tried if she was healthier or the kid didn't have so many problems. But she was _very_ sick, and Frankie needed to be constantly watched and taken care of -have in mind he was only 8 at the moment. His grandma lived alone, and was thinking of getting herself into a home for elderly people."  


"So she just moved Frankie to a new place?" I reckoned.  


"She said she had found the best private mental hospital in her city, very close to where she was planning to move so she could visit Frankie as often as possible and make sure he was fine."  


"Damn...the only person who cared for Frank and she was too ill to take him with her? Poor woman...and poor Frankie." I sighed, trying not to cry. 

Frankie came skipping and sat next to me. "Wh-what you talking a-about?"  


"Frankie...do you remember when you left this place?" I inquired. 

He skewed his mouth to both sides, concentrating. "N-no I don't. One...one d-day I...w-woke up and wasn't h-here anymore. W-was on a p-plane, with an o-old woman who s-said was my g-grandma and... and w-we got out of the p-plane and then she t-took me to the o-other place. Y-yeah! Th-that happened!" he celebrated joyfully, satisfied with having recalled something.  


"Your memory is good, Frankie!" I kissed his cheek.  


"He can't remember when he left because apart from his medication, he was also _heavily_ sedated that day. Who knows what had been their excuse that time. Maybe Frankie had a nervous fit, or it was just that some idiot here didn't feel like putting up with him," Maria explained sadly. "Frank's grandma wasn't exactly happy to see the child like that, and I suggested that she waited until he was more lucid; but she said it'd be better to leave right away. Frank would be easier to manage and wouldn't get scared on the plane."  


All I could do was listen to her and nod, taking it all in. The idea of Frankie being overmedicated at such a young age was barbarian, although I knew that's how things were in those places. 

Maria stopped talking and searched for something among the papers in her hands.  


"Oh, here!" she smiled. "On a happier note, wanna see why I _knew_ he was Frankie?"  


"Sure, what is it?" I got closer, Bob and Frank peeping over my shoulders. 

Maria handed me an old photograph, its edges a little frayed and yellowed. It showed who -no doubt- was Frank when he was about 6. His hair was flatter and cut straight, with a dense fringe falling above his naturally sculpted eyebrows. His eyes were only slightly deviated, but it was the same sweet, innocent look. He had the same sincere smile, the same small nose; it was like looking at the exact same Frankie in miniature.  


"Th-that's me?" Frank pointed at the picture.  


"Yes, you at 6!" Maria confirmed that I had guessed the age correctly.  


"You haven't changed much! The same little face," I opined.  


"He's not even much bigger now..." she pinched Frankie's cheek.  


"H-hey! I _am_ much b-bigger than that n-now!" he pouted, crossing his arms.  


"It was a joke! Of course you are, bigger and prettier."  


"One thing was better, you used a brush back then." Bob laughed tousling the boy's hair.  


"Sh-shut up, silly! M-my hair _hates_ b-brushes! L-leave it al-alone!" Frank shot back.  


"Oh, but it hated them back then too! It was like three of us against this little boy to get him to brush his hair for the picture," Maria related. "By the way, you can keep the photograph."  


"Oh, thanks!" I exclaimed gratefully. I was already thinking of framing it to place it somewhere in the living room. It was such a cute photo.  


When I was about to say goodbye, I realised I had yet to ask an important question. "Oh Maria..." I spoke, most probably failing at pronouncing her Hispanic name. "...do you know which mental institution Frankie was transferred to?"  


"Let me search, it must be somewhere because I know his grandma gave it to me. Also, people from that place called several times to consult us about Frank and what kind of medication he was on here." She looked into the box that had been discarded on a side. "Here!"  


I shoved the little pink paper into my back pocket and thanked Maria once again. I was finally getting closer. Although I wouldn't be able to travel there any time soon, I could at least look it up in the phone directory.

The woman told Frankie to take care and then gave us all a good-bye hug before we left.  


**************  


Back in the car the three of us chatted about several random things, laughed, and for moments sang when some song on the radio would tempt us to. I was trying to get my mind off the things I had found out, it hurt me to think of all the shit Frankie had been through. He was smiling and having fun now, and I didn't want to let my feelings show, didn't want him to notice my sadness. That was all in the past after all. He was with me, with us, he'd be fine. We would do everything within our reach for him to be a happy boy and have a life as normal as possible. The love we had for each other would help, I knew it would. It would help us _both_.  


As I thought that, hearing Frank and Bob talking in the background, my lips formed a spontaneous smile. In that instant their voices went quiet and my eyes set on the rearview mirror. In the free space left by my own face, I spotted Frankie's. He was watching me and grinning, knowing I could see him too. We kept staring at each other, communicating without words. A mutual thanks giving, a love declaration, a trust statement.  


"Gerard, the wheel! You're supposed to keep it centered! Boy, and you say you don't drink anymore!" Bob spoke from behind. 

Those last words shook me more than the rest of his speech. Guilt, remorse, fear of my weakness. Yet I didn't say anything about it, no one would know that I had gotten drunk again two nights ago. I'd had a reason to do it then, but now Frankie was back with me. That _couldn't_ happen again.  


"Uh, sorry, I was lost in thought."  


"It's ok man, just be more careful, you know? Keep your eyes on the road," Bob said. For a moment I thought I had perceived some sarcasm in his advice. Had he noticed us staring at each other? Honestly, it was very probable.  


"What about you, Frankie? Hey, boy! Are you here at all?" Bob called him. When I looked up, I saw Frank was _still_ looking at me through the mirror.  


"Y-yeah," he responded. I wasn't able to spy him anymore, but then I felt something rubbing the back of my head. I knew it was his face when I heard him sigh.  


"I l-love you, G-gee." The tone wasn't childish, wasn't 'brotherly'. It was whispered and seductive, though not soft enough to be secret.  


"Oh, Frankie..." I closed my eyes tight for second, as if that could make me invisible.  


"D-do you, too? G-gee?" he added, his cheek against mine.  


"Yes, Frankie, of course I love you," I replied, knowing the truth was out anyway. Bob was humming, tapping his fingers on the glass. "Bob...I...we..."  


"Yes? Go ahead Gerard, you can do it!"  


"Well, as you must have realised we...Frank and I...feel something for each other. We...I don't know how to call it. We love each other, we love each other very much," I hesitated. Frankie had sat back, and was nodding.  


"Congratulation, boys!" Bob told us happily, the last reaction I was expecting. Was he mocking me? Was he being ironic?  


"Bob...you're ok with it?"  


"Why wouldn't I? It was about time you said it!" he laughed.  


"You mean you already knew it?" I tried to calm down and focus on the road.  


"I kinda did, intuitively, since those first times when you told me of him. It was something about the way you did it, I hadn't seen you that moved and interested in something or someone in a long time."  


"You didn't think anything wrong of it, did you? You know...since I mentioned he was 'special' and all that..." I was trying to remember our talks, worried that he might have a wrong idea of how my relationship with Frankie was. I didn't want that, even if he was fine with it. Bob was an open-minded guy, but I liked things clear.  


"What? No, man, chill! I'm gonna sound cheesy and probably make you blush -knowing you- but you sounded _in love_ ," he remarked with a camp voice. "not like a perv!"  


"Wh-what's a p-perv?" Frankie chimed in. 

"Uh...a person who...I think you're too young to know, but it's bad," Bob stammered.  


"I...I'm n-not too young! B-but if it's s-something bad then G-gerard's not that. N-no, 'cause he's the b-bes-test boy ever! And...and he's my b-boyfriend. Or w-well, I c-can't say that w-word but we're like b-boyfriends," he concluded. Hearing him say all that, I considered rethinking some things.

"I was telling you..." Bob picked up the thread. "...I already suspected something, even more after last Sunday when I met Frankie. The way he looks at you, the way you care about him, it was more than brotherly. I didn't say anything because there was a possibility that I _was_ wrong. Then, when the kid got angry at you and said something about liking when you kiss, that was pretty obvious!"  


"But you _still_ didn't say anything!" I pointed out.  


"You changed the subject and I understood you weren't ready, so I decided to wait. You thought I hadn't noticed or I had forgotten? No way, Way! I'm always aware of my surroundings, remember I'm _Super Bob_!" he finished with a joke, as usual, and laughter exploded from Frank's side of the car.  


"And," I wanted to get rid of all my doubts. "you're not surprised that I'm in love with...a boy?"  


"Gerard," Bob chuckled. "I've _never_ seen you interested in a girl. I know you had a girlfriend, and in the beginning I thought you were just too hurt because you had broken up with her. But...time went by and even being completely wasted..."  


"Shh!" I hushed him.  


"Sorry. Not even when you...couldn't remember your own name did I see you accept a girl's proposal. And man, all girls were crazy for you!"  


I laughed. "Ok, ok. Then I guess that not even in that...state I was able to fool myself anymore. You don't mind, do you?"  


"Not at all. Free will, G-man!"  


"Thanks, Bob. I'm glad there's someone who seems to know me and has trusted me from the beginning. I had enough with my brother, and I even my mom finding out about me and Frankie gave me some trouble. I still have to tell Ray which could be hard, he's like my conscience..." I whined tiredly.  


"Your brother took it wrong? What the fuck? See, I'm not a saint, I'm far from being innocent, but my mind is not _that_ dirty!" Bob was astounded.  


"Yeah, I prefer not to talk about it. We had a conversation and things are better now."  


"It's ok, then. And really, Gerard, everything's fine. Frankie's obviously happy with you, and _totally_ in love. I look at your ugly face...I see the same. Enough." Bob patted my shoulder.  


"G-gerard's not ugly, you as-asshole!" Frank jumped.  


"It was a joke, you're both very handsome. I'm the only ugly one in this car." Bob faked a sniff. 

I turned and saw Frankie hugging my friend worriedly. "N-no Bob, don't c-cry! Y-you're not ugly, t-told you. Y-you're just not as p-pretty as Gee."  


"Really, Frankie?" Bob winked at me.  


"Y-yep!"  


"However...I might be prettier than Bob, but there's a certain boy with long brown hair and glasses that's prettier than me, so he beats us both," I threw in. 

Frankie loosened his belt one more time and kissed my cheek quickly.  


"Can one die from excess of cuteness in a reduced space?" Bob questioned.

******  


When we arrived home after dropping Bob off, it surprised me to hear music coming from inside. "Is it Rod Stewart?" I wondered aloud.  


"R-rob who?" Frankie frowned.  


"Oh, he's an old...rocker. You do hear music, don't you?"  


"Y-yeah." He put his ear on the door and snickered. "S-something 'bout 's-sexy'."

Upon entering, we found my mom sweeping the house while dancing. I stopped dead and glanced at Frank. His expression was priceless.  


"What are those faces? Do I dance so bad?" She grabbed Frank's hands to pull him into the 'dance floor' with her, and he laughed as if someone was tickling him. I was glad the boy hadn't kept any grudge towards my mother.  


"N-no I...I l-like it. Y-you're funny!"  


I shook my head, amused "If he says so..." The situation was so opposite to the one we had lived two nights before...  


"Oh, shut up! Come and dance with us!" she invited me.  


"No, I _don't_ dance!"  


"Y-yes you c-can! P-pleeease!" Frankie insisted, still giggling non stop as my mother made him turn with her hand.  


"Nooo, I'm _really_ bad, I'd be embarrassed...maybe next time," I politely refused. "Why are you here, mom? Didn't you have to work?"  


"I have the week off. I'd asked for it when I thought of having Frank home, you know? So...since now I have nothing to do, I wanted to come help a little, maybe cook something for you." She carried on dancing while she answered. Frank was loving it, and it brought a reminiscence of that first time I had seen him, dancing happily among the cars.  


"Ahh...ok! Thanks, mom." I smiled.  


I knew deep inside that one of the reasons why she was there was to keep us watched. She had said she was sorry, had agreed that it'd been a mistake to take Frankie away from me, and had apparently understood how much we needed each other. However, I felt that she wasn't _completely_ cool with it. She was still afraid, she wanted to make sure Frankie would be fine with me. I didn't mind, we had nothing to hide. We rarely did anything that we couldn't do in front of her. Well, _not intentionally at least._

"I saw Ray on my way here, he told me where you'd gone. Any luck?" She was rather breathless, trying to keep up with Frank's rapid moves.  


"You could say so, I have the name of the institution. There are other things, but we better talk later." I inconspicuously signaled towards Frank.  


I watched them dance for at least half an hour. I only laughed and sang along; they couldn't convince me to join them. The few times I had danced in my life, I was _very_ drunk. The only way I'd dare do it.  


Finally exhausted, my mom announced that she would go clean the kitchen. Frankie took the animal book from the little table and stared at it.  


"Wanna practice for a while, like we were doing the other day?" I proposed. His face denoted annoyance as he swept a lock of sweaty hair out of his face. "You prefer to do it tomorrow?"  


"Y-yeah, I'm t-tired to think n-now. C-can I read s-something to you?"  


"Of course! Come here." I guided him to my lap and positioned myself so he was lying on top of me, his head under my chin. I loved to have his back against my chest, to feel his warmth, just to hold him close. Frank yawned while he searched through the pages. He had been too entertained in the car to sleep and had skipped his daily nap.

"El-elephants!" he enunciated.  


"Awesome! Go ahead."  


"El-elephants are...the l-largest mam-mals..." he began to read slowly. "M-mammals are the...the ones th-that drink m-milk from the t-tits of their m-moms, Grace t-told me. W-we're mammals t-too."  


"Yep, very well, that's correct!" I nuzzled his hair. "What else?"  


"Th-they can w-weigh up to..." he interrupted and looked at me."Wh-what's this number, G-gee?"  


"Fifteen thousand."  


"Oh! I...I d-don't know h-huge numbers. J-just 'till...uh...one h-hundred...I th-think."  


"Well, that's a lot anyway. I'll teach you more some other day, don't worry," I told him. That was surely enough for someone who hadn't been to school or had a family to learn from.  


 "K-kay. Th-then it says: 'They c-can weigh up to f-fifteen th-thou-sand pounds'. Th-that's a lot, right?"  


"Yes, _certainly_ a lot."  


"S-see? They _could_ c-crush us!"  


"They could if they wanted to, but elephants are nice so they wouldn't. And you won't find them anywhere like...in the street. The ones in the zoo can't get out, they're in cages. And the ones who are free live very far away from here," I illustrated.  


"B-but what if m-many many birds h-help them es-escape from the c-cages, uh?" he exposed with his best serious face.  


"I don't think they could lift them!"  


"Y-yes they c-could!"  


"Ok, but they wouldn't crush us anyway, I promise. Keep on reading." I knew an argument like that wouldn't go anywhere. He was very convinced of those things he said.  


Frankie continued to read until the book fell from his hands, indicating that he was falling asleep. I restored the encyclopedia to the table and hugged him, closing my eyes too. I sensed him turn, and when I opened my eyes his face was glued to mine.  


"Oh, hi there! Thought you were sleeping."  


He smiled groggily. "W-want some k-kisses first."   


"I have many of those..." I placed my hands on his cheeks and kissed him deeply. He tasted like orange, contrasting with his strawberry smell. 

The kissing became lazier but not less heartfelt. He was slightly shaking, hands around my neck. I massaged his scalp with my fingertips, for I knew it helped him relax before sleeping.  


"Boys...oh sorry! I was gonna ask you if you wanted something to drink...chocolate milk perhaps?" My mom appeared from behind the couch.  


I was already praying that she had _other plans_ for the rest of the week. 


	30. Chapter 30

_Light a candle, blow the world away,  
table for two on a tv tray.  
It ain't fancy, baby, that's ok.  
Our time, our way._

When my mom said she had taken a week off, it seemed she really meant off _everything_. Everything _but us_. I hadn't been wrong about her wanting to keep us watched. During the following week, there wasn't a single day when she didn't come over early in the morning. She ended up telling Ray to take a break from babysitting Frankie and, not content enough with that, she'd always stay until the night.

My mother allowed me and Frankie to kiss and cuddle, but maintained a close surveillance. Whenever our kissing got deeper, our hands started moving, or our position was too horizontal for her liking, she _coincidentally_ had something to tell us; or some baked goods to offer. She never admitted that it was on purpose and would say she 'didn't know' or 'didn't want to interrupt', but I knew those were _no_ coincidences.  
Once she even stayed over and offered to sleep with Frankie, alleging that in that way I would have a carefree night for a change. Needless to say, Frank didn't like the idea.

Somehow I understood her, I guessed it was a natural maternal instinct. Good mothers like mine could be overprotective with those who seemed weaker or vulnerable, even if they were not their own kids. Anyway, I would have preferred her to be more direct instead of using that badly concealed vigilance.

Finally and luckily, the week was over and she reluctantly announced that she wouldn't be able to visit us for some days. In my opinion, I hadn't given her any reason to worry about Frankie or me, and I hoped she felt the same. I needed her to trust me, to understand that I _loved_ Frank and love was all our relationship was about.  


Frankie was evidently never aware of my mother's real intentions and it made him sad that he wouldn't see her so often anymore. He had enjoyed having a mom for once. This was also why I'd chosen to put up with her always being around without protesting. Frank _deserved_ to know what it was like to have a mother.  


Another positive side to my mother's presence was that even though I had felt the urge to drink numerous times, the fear of her finding out had always stopped me. It had been hard and painful, specially late at night when she wasn't there. The temptation was enormous. I'd get tense, my palms would start sweating and I'd pace the house in circles; Frankie watching me puzzled or sometimes amused. His face was the main thing keeping me from leaving the house to buy alcohol, then. It got a little easier and better to endure as the days went by and the memory of those last two bottles of whiskey faded away.

The previous day, Frankie had seen Goldberg again. I was afraid of what he could say about the way I'd handled some matters. I had given Frank permission to still talk to his imaginary friends and told him Puppy was real, only sometimes invisible. However, the doctor said it was okay. The only important point was to have Frank know that those things or beings were not real, and the boy appeared to understand it well enough. Then it was the patient's family's choice whether to allow the conversations to go on. About Puppy, he agreed that it had been the best thing to do at the moment considering how Frank had reacted; but I'd have to think of a way to tell him the truth. I could either do the same as with the gnomes and the little people, or try getting him a real dog and see if he forgot about the non-existent one. A dilemma that wasn't easy to resolve.  


Frank's condition hadn't changed much during that last week. He still had hallucinations once in a while and the psychiatrist said they probably wouldn't go away entirely, since the medication had already been acting long enough. He was satisfied with the improvements nonetheless, and noticed Frankie a lot happier and more talkative now that he could see better. 

He opined that trying a different medication could be risky and unnecessary unless the current one caused any serious health problem. Increasing the dose to see if that stopped the hallucinations was an option, but Frank would be more sedated and maybe less responsive.  


I didn't need to think much about it, I instantly refused. I didn't mind Frank talking to his imaginary friends, it wasn't a problem for me at all. I would not have him completely drugged up like they'd do in that place he had lived in. Goldberg was actually glad I thought that way; but he informed that it was okay to give Frankie a quarter or even half a pill more if he got too nervous or aggressive, which could sometimes happen.  


The reading and comprehension practice hadn't gone too well so far. Frankie would either refuse to do it, get tired pretty soon or feel frustrated because he couldn't tell me much about what he read. The doctor told me to insist and be patient. Reading aloud -which Frank loved to do- was very good for him too.  


I was, in general, happy with the visit to the doctor and the way things had been evolving.  


On the subject of my investigation, things were stuck. I had called the institution one hundred times through all the week asking for Grace. Every time I was told that she was busy with patients and they couldn't get her at the moment. I didn't want to speak to any other person than her, so I'd continue to try.

******  


That day I woke up with an idea in my head. It could have led someone to say _I_ was the crazy one, but I didn't care.  


I was supposed to separate a little part of my payment each month to try and gather the money to get my father's watch back. It would take time, since there were bills to pay and expensive medication to buy. What's more, we had to eat; and even with my mother's help things were tight. For this reason, thinking of using that watch-destined money for an extra spending didn't seem like a good idea; yet it was worth it. It was something I had to do, I _needed_ to do.

I arrived home with some bags that, in spite of Frank's pleas for me to show him, I hid in the upper part of the closet. "Later, I promise. It's part of a surprise."  


"I l-like surprises, but t-tell me?" he insisted.  


"Frankie, love, if I tell you then it's not a surprise anymore! Just...three more hours and I'll give you what's in the bags."  


"K-kay, you're a m-meanie." He pouted and went to watch TV.  


After some chocolate with cookies, some reading and a quick house cleaning, it was time to get ready. "Frankie, go take a shower but _don't_ get dressed," I told him. I had showered before Ray left, as usual. I didn't trust Frankie alone for too long if I could avoid it.  


"D-don't want to!" he protested. Sometimes he was a little averse to baths.  


"If you don't do it, there's no surprise."  


"B-but...not f-fair!"  


"Yes, it _is_ fair. It's summer, you're sweaty, and your feet are all dirty from walking around barefoot. Shower or no surprise!" I commanded. I hated to act like a father, although on occasions it was very necessary.  


"K-kay. B-but then...I t-take a shower and...and s-stay naked?" he asked, making me gasp. 

I realised how bad what I had said sounded. "No! I meant, only put on your boxers. Then I'll tell you why."  


"Ahh k-kay." He nodded .  


When Frankie left the bathroom, I guided him to our room. The two bags I had brought home were on the bed. 

I handed him one. "Yours, you can look now."  

Frank peeped inside and then at me, disappointed. "C-clothes? Th-that's a boring s-surprise!" he complained, reminding me of when I would get clothes instead of toys for my birthday, or Christmas.  


"I told you this is only _part_ of the surprise. We're going out tonight, that's why I bought us some new clothes." I kissed his pouty lips. 

His eyes lightened instantly. "Y-yay! Wh-where we g-going?"  


"Fraaankie! Stop asking! Surprise, remember?"  


"I...I th-think I don't like s-surprises anymore." He crossed his arms, angry.  


"Oh, come on...let's get dressed so we can leave?"  


"K-kay."  


I had bought clothes that I thought would be comfortable enough for him and at the same time make him look less like a kid. I needed him to look his age, just in case. I didn't give a fuck about homophobes, but people thinking me a pervert could get me into trouble. More important, it could make me lose Frankie.  


I watched him put on the black jeans and spy himself in the mirror, grinning. Then he picked up the short-sleeved, white buttoned shirt. After studying it for a while, he came to me with it in his hand. 

"C-can you help m-me? D-dunno how to p-put it on."  


"Of course, just a second." I zipped my own jeans and then assisted Frankie. I found myself lost in his sweet stare, buttoning up the shirt blindly. I fixed it inside his pants on the back and sides. Since the jeans were low cut, I didn't dare stick my hands in the front. "Now finish yourself while I put on mine, ok? Just get the shirt inside your pants."  


"K-kay."  


My shirt was black same as the jeans, and I completed my outfit with a red tie. I had also gotten us two pairs of similar black tie-up shoes.  


"You look so handsome!" I exclaimed admiring Frank. He seemed, indeed, more grown up. "Let me add this as a last detail."  


"N-no don't w-want to! It...th-those are t-tight and it's h-hot!" he slapped my hand which was holding a thin black tie.  


"No, it won't be tight, I promise. I have it ready, see? Now I just have to pass it over your head...and...adjust it _just a little_." I left it loose in a very casual style that fitted him perfectly. "Is it tight?"  


"Uh...n-no it isn't. Y-you were right." He walked to the bigger mirror in the corridor and contemplated his own image. "I th-think I look g-good! And...and you t-too. S-sooo handsome! S-see?" He grabbed my hand and forced me to stand in front of the mirror with him. 

I normally hated that. I didn't like to look at myself, but this time it was different. I didn't see myself, I saw _us_ ; and we looked perfect together.  


"I see." I caught him in my arms and kissed him deeply, stopping soon so our clothes wouldn't wrinkle before even leaving. "Now there's one last favor you have to do for me to get the rest of your surprise. Let me brush your hair and fix it a little?"  


In spite of my fear of his reaction, he looked calm and happy, that huge smile still present. He rolled his eyes and puffed, but went for the brush that was inside a drawer himself. "D-don't make me h-hurt, un-understand?" He delivered it to me.  


"I'll do my best not to," I promised.  


It wasn't easy at all to sort the entanglement Frank's hair had become after days without brushing it. Anyhow, I managed to do it causing him to whine _only once_.  


I watched him and felt like kissing him all over. He was _so_ pretty. His beautiful, rather feminine features glowing. His soft, now tamed hair being blown by the air of my old fan; the ends grazing his shoulders and curling stubbornly. A rebellious lock fell over his left eye and I moved it aside with my fingers before setting the glasses over his little nose.  


"Perfect," I simply stated, kissing him one last time. "I'll give you your pill and then we can leave."

******  


"Good evening, sirs. Follow me, I'll lead you to your table," the waiter welcomed us solemnly when we arrived.  


 _It wasn't that we were in a fancy restaurant_ , only that the waiter was Steven, a boy who used to work with me. I had talked to him earlier and he assured me that the owner of that place appreciated him, so we'd have no problem there.  


_We didn't have a reservation_ , there were always enough available tables in this restaurant; but Steven knew at what time we would turn up and had set one for us.  


"Thanks Steve!" I winked and gave him a thumbs-up.

Acting like a gentleman, I separated the chair from the table, inviting Frankie to take a seat.  


He clapped his hands with the most gigantic grin I had ever seen. "W-wow! Th-this...this is l-like boyfriends d-do in m-movies!"   


"Make yourself at home, boys. I'll bring you the menu right away!" Steven said before heading for the back room. 

I sat and enjoyed my cute boy's happiness. He first looked around him to finally set his eyes on the small table.  


 _There were no romantic candles_ -it wouldn't have been safe- _or dim lights; and we weren't alone at the restaurant_. However, our table did have a neat white cloth. Three red roses in a blue plastic glass adorned the center.  


"Do you like the surprise?" I rubbed Frank's cheek with my thumb.  


"L-love it! B-best sur-surprise ever!"  


"I'm so happy to hear that." I reached over the table to meet his lips. Some murmurs could be heard from the other tables and Frank turned to look at them.  


"Wh-why they're w-watching us like that? M-maybe they never s-saw boyf- uh...t-two boys who l-love each other on a d-date? Th-this is a d-date, Gee? Like in m-movies?" he bombed me with questions. I didn't know if I should answer or squeeze him.  


"Yes, baby, it's a date." I smiled. "And those people are watching us because you're the prettiest thing they've ever seen and...because we look _great_ together!"  


"Oh..." He giggled and kissed my nose. There were more murmurs that I ignored, while Frankie chose to respond by waving at everybody.

Steven reappeared. "Here's the menu! Don't pay attention to any idiot, the boss is on your side," he told us.  


_The menu, of course, didn't have a leathered cover with golden letters_. It was just a single computer printed paper, however laminated.  


We chose chicken thighs with an onion sauce and potatoes, and our meal was served pretty soon. Yes, that restaurant was humble; but the attention was great and the food delicious. Why would anyone prefer a fancy, expensive one?

"Oh, y-yummy!" Frankie smelt the dish in front of him and then passed it over to me. "C-cut the ch-chicken?"  


"Of course, babe." I had never taught him how to cut his food; his doctor said it was better to keep knives away from the boy. There was always the possibility of him having a nervous episode, and it had been proved that he could get aggressive. I had specially instructed Steven to include only one knife and not too sharp forks.  


I cut all the chicken and gave the plate back to Frankie. When he grabbed the fork to start eating, he noticed his hands were shaking a lot.  


"Oh-oh," he whispered. Perseverant as he was, he tried to use the fork the same, but finally eyed me helpless. "G-gee...can I...?  


"Yep Frankie, use your hands." I guessed what he meant to ask.  


"Th-thanks."  


He seemed pleased and appeared to be enjoying the meal, humming softly and swinging his legs under the table. All of a sudden, that annoying whispering returned louder than before. I raised my eyes and saw their disgusted faces. I heard them 'eww' at Frankie and he did too.  


"Oops...I th-think they d-don't like me eating with m-my hands..." he commented sadly, his chin stained with food. He stopped eating and stared at me, mutely asking me what to do.  


I did the only thing that was logical: I left the cutlery on the table -over a paper napkin- and began to eat with my hands. Frank observed me in amazement and I grinned, showing my sauce covered teeth.  


"Eat boy, it'll go cold!" I spoke with my mouth full. He wasted no more time.  


I was sure that the complaints went on. I even thought I saw some people leave. I didn't care; busy as I was exchanging love stares with the boy in front of me while our hands kept picking up the food hungrily. Manners? What for?  


"Bah...they'll come back," I heard someone say.  


Once we were done, we went to the bathroom to clean ourselves and I couldn't stop looking at Frankie. I had seen him happy many times. He was a very positive, optimistic boy who got easily happy. Simple, little things could provoke it. Even so, I had never seen him so radiant as this night. I didn't care about the money I had spent, I didn't give a damn about my father's watch, and other people's opinions didn't exist. All that mattered was Frankie. All I wanted in my mind was his smile. All I needed were his soft lips -which were traveling along my face- to land on mine at last.

When we returned to the table with wet clothes and swollen lips, a big cup of ice cream was waiting for us. "On-only one?" Frankie questioned, sitting back.  


"Yes, so we can share," I expressed my much more romantic version of the 'it's all I can afford' line.  


"I l-like that! B-but...hands are still sh-shaking. H-how...?"  


"Come here." I beckoned him and sat him on my lap.  


"Wh-what...?"  


"Will you let me feed you the ice cream? I know you'd find a way to do it by yourself but...I don't wanna help you _because you can't do it_ , I want to feed you because that's what _boyfriends_ do." I let it all out -stressing the 'boyfriends' part- and waited. 

Frank's jaw fell and his eyes grew bigger than they already were. "B-but...you s-said we...we ar-aren't b-boyfriends yet..." he stammered more than ever.  


"Oh, you're right!" I hit my forehead. Although at that moment I felt observed like a fish in a bowl, I didn't look at anyone but Frankie. "I think I have to do something first, then."  


"Wh-what?"  


"Frankie, would you be my boyfriend?" I pronounced those words and thought his eyes would fall out of their sockets.  


"Y-YESSSS!" he screamed. "I L-LOVE YOU, G-GERARD!"  


He hugged me very, very tightly and the voices around us could be heard again. Not all of those people were disgusted. Some were squealing and going 'aww', and when I turned I could distinguish several smiles. Behind a window that communicated the main room with the kitchen, I saw Steven, his boss and two girls applauding while we kissed. No, the world wasn't completely lost.

"C-can I tell ev-everybody?" Frankie whispered in my ear.  


"Only the people we know, for now. But don't tell Ray, I want to do it myself." I still hadn't dared.  


"K-kay."  


"Can I feed my boyfriend this exquisite ice cream before it melts, now?" I requested with the spoon in my hand.  


"Y-yep, now you c-can, b-boyfriend."

We shared, we hugged, we kissed, we didn't care about anything else.

On our way home, Frankie fell asleep in the car. I carried him inside and took him to bed. Only half awake, he got a hold on me and made me fall beside him. Morning found us in each other's arms, still in our new clothes. It was a perfect ending.  


******  


That afternoon I came back home singing, remembering the previous night, Frank's overjoyed facial expression carved into my memory forever. I had gathered courage and intended to tell Ray about us. My best friend _had_ to know what had gotten me so happy.  


I suspected a change of plans when before opening the door I heard Frank screaming and crying; Ray's voice trying to calm him down.  


"Shit...what the fuck now?" 


	31. Chapter 31

_Trust I seek, and I find in you,  
every day for us something new.  
Open mind for a different view,  
and nothing else matters._

I hurriedly unlocked the door and stepped inside, scanning the living room. Frankie was sitting on the floor against a wall, one of his hands holding his right leg which was crossed over the left one. He was screaming and crying, tears falling endlessly. Ray was crouched near him, though at a safe distance from the punches Frank's free hand was providing.  


"I just want to help you, Frankie..." Ray said softly.  


"N-NO! D-DON'T TOUCH ME IT H-HURTS! G-GO A-AWAY!" Frank cried out.  


"What happened? Ray? Frankie?" I asked, kneeling beside the boy.  


"D-DON'T TOUCH M-ME! N-NOBODY! H-HURTS!"  


"He...was having a fight or something with his little friends and then suddenly kicked the wall really hard. I'm not sure how bad it is, he won't let me touch his foot. It happened just a minute before you arrived," Ray told me.  


"H-hurts. H-hurts very m-much..." Frank sobbed, his face red from the effort.  


"Fuck..." I muttered. The problems seemed to never stop. "Frankie...listen to me. I know it hurts, but I need to take off your sneaker to see. I'll do it as carefully as possible, ok?"  


"N-NO, IT H-HURTS!"  


"I know. We want to help you, calm down." I caressed his wet cheek and motioned for Ray to approach him. He caught Frank's hands in his while I sat over his uninjured leg.  


"G-GET OFF! D-DON'T TOUCH M-ME! G-GET OFF ME F-FUCKERS!" He twisted his body so violently that it was extremely hard to hold him still. 

I quickly untied his cords and then completely took them off, removing the shoe easily.  


"AHHHHH H-HURTS! HURTS, AS-ASSHOLE!"  


Ray hugged Frank and kissed his head. "It's done. Shhh...calm down, boy."  

I took a look at the boy's foot without touching it. Its instep was red and swollen. "Let's take him to a hospital, it could be broken," I murmured in Ray's ear. He nodded.  


"Where? The nearest one is a children hospital..."  


"It'll have to do." I shrugged. "After all, he's only 18 and looks younger, so I don't think we'll have any problem."  


Frank was still crying loudly when I carried him in my arms, aiming for the door. "N-NO! P-PUPPY!"  


"Puppy's fine, Frankie. He can stay here till we're back," Ray assured.  


"N-NO, I W-WANT PUPPY TO C-COME WITH M-ME! H-he takes care of m-me..."  


"Ray and I are with you, baby. You'll be ok." I held him closer, not minding that I had called him that in front of Ray.  


"I W-WANT PUPPY..." he whimpered louder. I wasn't sure if he was really in so much pain or he was more scared and nervous than anything else.  


"Ray...would you look for Puppy?"  


"Will do!" He disappeared through the corridor, calling the imaginary pet, and came back a couple of minutes later with Frank's teddy bear. "Your doggie chose a bad moment to make himself invisible, but I found this other friend who wants to go with you." He offered Frankie the toy. 

The distressed boy extended one arm doubtfully and took it, snuggling it against his chest.  


"Where are his glasses, Ray?" I asked.

"Over there on a shelf, I put them on a safe place 'cause I was afraid that he'd break them."   


"Oh, ok. Grab them just in case."  


******"

I'll drive, he'll feel more secure with you," Ray said as we climbed into my car. 

I occupied the back passenger's seat with Frank on my lap, my blue t-shirt already soaked in his tears.  


"H-hurts..." he repeated, burying his face into his plushie.  


"It'll stop soon, I promise," I whispered. "Why did you kick the wall?"  


"I...I w-wanted to k-kick a little m-man. H-he said...he s-said I was s-stupid 'cause...'c-cause I said s-something. I sh-should not have s-said that. I d-did...but d-didn't want to! And...and he s-said that, and I g-got angry and k-kicked him and...and it h-hurt. A l-lot..." He began to weep again. I thought of asking him what it was that he had said, but it wasn't the right moment to insist on that.  


"Frankie, you know they're not real..."  


"I kn-know but I s-see them and h-hear them and he s-said I was s-stupid and I'm n-not!"  


"Listen, the next time they say something like that to you, you just tell them they don't exist. You'll make them angrier that way than by kicking them, trust me," I suggested. 

He looked up at me through flooded eyes. "Y-you think?"  


"Yep."  


"I agree with Gee, that will make them furious!" Ray added.  


******

"Sh-she gave it to m-me," Frank spoke again after minutes of silence. Ray and I shared confused glances through the rearview mirror.  


"What are you talking about, Frankie?" I inquired.  


"Th-the bear. Sh-she gave it to m-me."  


"She...who? Grace?" I guessed. 

He shook his head. "N-no, the o-old woman. Th-the one that t-took me on a p-plane and...and to the place wh-where I lived be-fore l-living with you. M-my grandma?" he answered unsure, sniffing in between words and trembling. .  


"Yes, she was your grandma. Did she use to visit you?"  


"Y-yes...I th-think before when I was l-little. D-don't remember...f-foot hurts, Gee!"  


"We're almost there, hold on," I hushed him, leaving the past in peace for the moment.

We arrived at the hospital and took a seat in the waiting room. It was fully replete of kids. Some visibly injured, with casts or bandages; others crying in their parents' arms, cheeks flushed with fever or bloody compresses being held to their head or limbs. I flinched as I saw a little girl vomiting into a trash can. The screams and the mixed smells didn't exactly make that place pleasant. Frankie intensified his grip on my neck, his teddy bear still resting on his chest.

"G-gee I w-wanna go h-home..."  


"A doctor needs to see your foot first."  


"D-DON'T WANT TO! N-NO ONE WILL T-TOUCH IT! H-HEAR IT? N-NO ONE! G-GONNA KILL THEM!"  


"You're not gonna kill anyone because you're a good boy. Your foot won't get better if you don't let a doctor see it."  


"I'LL K-KILL THEM...K-KICK THEIR AS-ASSES TO D-DEATH! H-HATE DOCTORS! F-FOOT HURTS AND TH-THEY WON'T... t-touch it!" He hit me with his fist and screamed so much that he lost his voice at the end of the sentence and started coughing. Everybody's eyes were on us.  


"Frankie please, you need to calm down." I rocked him while he kept on punching me. Ray eyed me worriedly. "He's too agitated, this is not good for him. What if he has an attack?"  


"Want me to go get a doctor?" Ray proposed.  


"I...I don't know, we're supposed to wait for our turn here. I'm sure many of those kids' cases are more serious..."  


"Yeah...but maybe if I explained the situation?"

I was pondering over my decision when I saw a young blond nurse walk into the room. She stopped in the middle and looked around, finally coming towards us.  


"Someone told me there was a kid who seemed in real pain or something. They said the oldest one, so I guess it's him?"  


"Yes...he's too nervous, sorry..." I apologized for Frankie.  


"Oh no, that's normal here. I was sent to ask if it was urgent, we can let you in first if it is," she communicated.  


I thought for a moment, contemplating all those poor kids waiting. Frankie's foot didn't seem to have gotten any more swollen, so the main problem was his nerves. I didn't think it was fair to go into the doctor's office sooner than the people who had arrived earlier. "No, I'm sure his foot can wait but...would you do me a favor?"  


"If I can... Tell me." She bended over, resting her hands on her knees.  


"He's schizophrenic, and so much stress is not good for his nerves. He's very scared and it'd also be hard for a doctor to check his foot in this state. And they'll want to do an x-ray...?"  


"Yeah, most probably," she assented.  


"Could you find out if it's possible to give him some sedative while we wait?"  


"Ok, I'll ask the doctor and then be back myself or send another nurse if he agrees. How old is the kid?"  


"He's...18. Is that a problem? This was the closest hospital," I responded sincerely. Maybe I had unconsciously grown tired of lying.  


"Nah, I don't think anyone will object in this case."  


I shook her hand smiling. "Thanks."  

About ten minutes later, a tough-looking male nurse showed up with a syringe in between his thick fingers. Frankie didn't see him; he was shedding tears on my shoulder. His breath was agitated and I could sense his heartbeat on my neck through the pulsating vein of his temple. I was _really_ worried about him, and not because of the injured foot. I was rubbing Frank's back to comfort him when I saw the nurse scan the room like the girl had done before.  


"Oh please, tell me this is not..."  


"Is he the kid that needs a sedative?" the guy's words cut off my thoughts. 

Upon hearing that Frank jumped, his muscles stiffening. "N-NO! N-NO GEE D-DON'T LET HIM GIVE M-ME A SH-SHOT!"  


"Yes, he is but...isn't there any other way? He hates shots..."  


"Well, tell me of someone who _likes_ them!" he scoffed roughly. "No, there's _no_ other option, so take it or leave it. Come on, I have a lot of things to do."  


"Can you _please_ have a little bit of consideration? He's mentally ill and not exactly okay right now," Ray spat at him, standing up in front of the man to look more menacing.  


"There's no need to get combative, you know? I'm just doing my damn job. You have any idea of how many patients we receive -for free- each day? Now, do I give him the sedative or not?"  


"Yes..." I consented. "I hate doing this to him, but if there's no other choice... I don't think he'll allow you to find his vein, though."  


"Not necessary, it's intramuscular. Guess the doctor supposed it'd be easier," he replied.  


"It isn't gonna knock him out completely, is it?  


"No," he puffed, rolling his eyes. "it's just to calm him down."  


As soon as he touched Frank's arm, the boy started to yell as if someone was killing him, attempting to hit the nurse at any cost.  


"Keep him quiet, FUCK!"  


"I'm fucking trying, don't you see? I told you it wasn't a good idea," I uttered angrily.  


"L-LEMME THE F-FUCK ALONE! N-NO, NO SH-SHOTS TOLD YOU! I'LL F-FUCKING KILL YOU, B-BASTARD!"  


"Frankie, NO!" I wasn't fast enough to stop Frank's 'good' leg which projected forward, his heel colliding with the nurse's balls.  


"FUCKING SON OF A BITCH! Now I'll teach you all how one should proceed in these cases," the guy fumed. He grabbed Frank's arm forcefully and thrust the needle with no mercy. 

In a quick sequence I heard Frank's screams of pain, saw his teddy bear falling to the ground and Ray's fist hitting the bestial nurse's jaw once he withdrew the needle. It didn't give me time to think of my own fear of needles.  


"And don't even _think_ of complaining to anyone, because I have many more fucking reasons to complain about _you_ , ok?" 

I listened to Ray's voice while I focused on Frank. He was holding his arm, shaking and crying so hard that it looked like he was about to have a seizure. I was nearly as panicked as he was, not knowing what to do. I could only imagine what Frank was feeling; how terrified, confused and in pain he was. How close that had been to what would happen to him at the institution when he 'wasn't a good boy'.  


"Baby I'm sorry. I just...I was afraid because you were so nervous and...please believe me, Frankie, I didn't want that fucker to do that to you." I held him, sniffing. 

Ray picked up the bear and handed it back to Frank. He hugged it under his chin, wetting it with his tears.

"I revenged you, kiddo. I bet his jaw is hurting more than your arm." My friend grinned.  


"Th-that's...g-good but...but m-my foot still h-hurts, too..." Frankie mumbled in between sobs.  


"It'll be better soon..." I kissed his warm forehead. "Are you mad at me?"  


"N-no I'm n-not. On-only at that as-asshole. B-but Ray r-rocks so b-bad and..." He made me lower my head to add something in secret. "...l-love you."  


"Love you too," I whispered back. "Please try to relax a little, everything's gonna be alright, we'll go home soon."  


The sedative kicked off in no more than ten minutes, but my anxiety and concern multiplied them. I was only able to cool myself down once Frank's breathing normalized and he stopped crying.  


"You better, little one?" Ray moved Frank's hair out of the way to look at his face.  


"Y-yeah. I...I'm t-tired." He made himself more comfortable, leaning on my chest. Frankie was pretty small for his age and not very muscular, but he had put on some weight since he took his medication. Not _that_ much, though he was heavy enough for me not to feel my legs after that long while.  


He observed everything, maybe noticing for the first time that there were a lot more people in the room.  


"Let's put on your glasses so you can see better and don't get so bored." Ray retrieved them from his bag.  


"K-kay. G-gee...my f-foot's break-ed?" he slurred slowly.  


"It's said _broken_." I smiled. "I'm not sure...I don't think it is. The doctor will probably want to do something which is like taking a picture of your foot's bones, then we'll know."  


"Wh-what...how?"  


"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt at all."  


"Oh...k-kay, then..." He trailed off and fixed his eyes on the people who had just sat next to us a couple of minutes before. A young woman with a -maybe- 10 years old kid who had a blue plastic cast on one leg.  


"What are you looking at, weirdo?" the kid cockily addressed Frank.  


"Danny!" his mother reprimanded him. 

Danny then talked to her in a lower voice that I could still hear. "But mom, he _is_ weird, look at him! His eyes are like...super crossed and he's too old to be sitting in someone's lap like that!"  


"I...I'm n-not weird, I'm _s-special_...t-tell him, Gee!" Frank watched me with sleepy eyes before turning to the kid. "F-fuck you."  


"Frankie..."  


"Oh no, don't say anything to him, my son was really rude. Sorry." The woman blushed, embarrassed. She got up and dragged her son behind to go sit on the other side of the bench.

Half an hour later, we were finally called in. I had to ask Ray to carry Frank while I took some time to recover the feeling in my numb legs.  


"It seems the sedative worked, didn't it?" the young bald doctor ascertained. Frankie was very quiet in Ray's arms; and when he sat him on the stretcher I had to stand behind to support him.  


"Yes, it did. What _doesn't_ work is your idiot of a nurse." I couldn't help myself. 

The doctor turned to me bewildered. "What? What nurse?"  


"The big guy?" Ray hinted bitterly.  


"Oh, yes...what happened?"  


"He was _very_ rude to Frankie -even knowing that he's mentally ill- and scared him more than he already was. Then because the boy hit him as self defense, that beast gave him the shot in the most savage way I've ever witnessed," I related, caressing Frank's hair.  


"Oh, shit...I told the manager I didn't like that guy working with kids, but he asked me to give him a chance. Don't worry, he'll know about this. I'm _really_ sorry." He seemed sincerely upset. "Now, what's wrong with our little friend here?"  


"He kicked a wall, not sure how badly injured his foot is. It's swollen, but he didn't let us touch it," I explained.  


"T-told you. H-he was calling me s-stupid." Frankie pouted.  


"Who, the wall?" the doctor asked him smiling.  


"N-no, silly! W-walls don't t-talk! A...l-little friend that on-only I see. G-gerard told me."  


"Ahh, ok. Can I see your foot? Just a second..."  


"N-no...it...it h-hurts..."  


"I want to know what's wrong so we can get it to stop hurting. Please? I'll be gentle." He spoke to Frank in a calm tone. It was obvious that he was used to working with kids, who very often acted like Frankie.  


"K-kay but...if it h-hurts too much I'll k-kick you too."  


"Deal."

While the doctor took Frank's ankle, Ray helped me restrain him. We knew he'd react at any moment. The man started to move his hands down along Frank's foot, asking whether it hurt. The answers went from negative to 'just a little' until the intrusive fingers reached the instep area.  


"S-STOP IT H-HURTS!" he shouted, trying to free his limb. Ray let me know that he could take care of Frank's arms, so I immobilized his legs.  


"Almost over, Frankie." The doctor palpated the swollen zone. "Alright. I don't think there's anything broken, but just in case we'll x-ray it."  


"N-no, wanna go h-home, Gee..." Frank whimpered.  


"This won't hurt at all, I promise," the doctor said. "Come over to the room next to this one."

Once there, the x-ray procedure was done with no major obstacles. Frankie was scared at first; but he soon realised that the man hadn't lied this time. The doctor was very good at convincing frightened patients.  


"Well, everything's fine in fact. Frankie's foot's just stubbed. When you hit that spot you hit just bones, since there's barely flesh to protect them; and now the tendons are also compressed by the swelling, so of course it's painful."  


"What can be done to alleviate the pain?" I questioned.  


"Bandaging it would only make it hurt more, so we'll leave it like this; just make sure he doesn't step on it for two or three days depending on how the swelling goes. I'll give you a prescription for anti-inflammatories. Oh, and have him submerge the foot in water with ice at least three times a day."  


"Could you give him something now? He still has to take his usual meds, and I don't think I'll be able to make him swallow any more pills at once today..." I knew that Frankie would be too exhausted by the time we got home. However, requesting that meant another shot.  


"Yes, of course. I can't give him anything too strong because of the medication he's on, but some milder analgesic and anti-inflammatory will do."  


I saw the doctor prepare the syringe and winced, avoiding the view. Frankie had his face hidden in the crook of my neck, too tired and sedated to take notice of everything that was being said or done. The man put the syringe in his pocket and took a can from over a shelf.  


"You know, Frankie? I always have lollipops to give to the kids, but you might think you're too old for that and I didn't want to offend you," he mentioned casually. 

Frank looked up and smiled faintly. "N-no I'm n-not too old for l-lollipops. G-gimme one?"  


"He usually gets mad if we tell him he's too young for something. Of course, things change if it's about sweets!" I laughed.  


"H-have s-strawberry?" he inquired, yawning and sliding his fingers under his glasses to rub his eyes.  


"Let me see...yes, I have one left. Yours." The doctor handed it to the groggy teen. As Frankie struggled with the wrap, he positioned himself to give him the shot.  


"H-help me?" Frankie kept staring at me while I unwrapped the lollipop, and the needle penetrated his skin in a smooth motion. So carefully that it didn't even freak _me_ out.  


"Ouch!" he yelped, the needle gone when he looked at his arm. It proved that things could be done with delicacy when wanted.  


"Mosquito?" the doctor smirked.  


"Uh...m-maybe a h-huge one!" Frankie responded, frowning in confusion.

After leaving the hospital, we paid the pharmacy a visit and then headed home. Frankie fell asleep with the lollipop in his mouth, so I wrapped it back and saved it for later.  


"Can I come in? I need to talk to you about something," Ray said once we got out of the car.  


"Of course you can, Ray, but what's wrong?"  


"It's not that...or well, I hope it's not," he doubted, scratching his curls. I felt a little uneasy. 

We stepped inside and while Ray closed the door I left Frankie on the ouch, going to the kitchen for his pill.  


When I had everything ready,  I shook him slightly. "Frankie...boy, you need to take your meds. Come on, then you can go back to sleep."   


"Uh...n-no...I..."  


"Please, here's the candy...be a good boy ," I insisted with my best puppy face. I was sure I wasn't good at that, yet Frankie seemed to like it. He was smiling.  


"K-kay." He sat up.  


"How's your foot? Does it hurt?"  


"N-no. Al-almost nothing n-now," he answered.  


"Good. Let's have this done so you can rest."  


"K-kay..." He took the pill and fell asleep again as soon as his head touched the cushion.  


******  


I sat at the edge of the couch, Ray doing the same on the single one. "What is it, Ray? You said you needed to talk and it seemed serious..."   


"You know Frank kicked the wall because he was having an argument with one of his little friends, right?" he began.  


"Yeah..." I had no idea how that could relate to anything.  


"And...he said one called him stupid because he said something he shouldn't have said?"  


"Aha." I suddenly had many possibilities in mind, or maybe many versions for the same one.  


"Well, I know what it is that he said. We were watching a movie and he made a comment..."  


"About a movie? Which comment?" I was really worried, now. Frankie sometimes lost himself while watching TV.  


"There was a scene where the characters were having a date, at a restaurant." Ray eyeballed me, pursing his fleshy lips like he always did when feeling unsure. "And Frankie said: 'that's like my date with Gee last night, now the boy will ask her if she wanna be his girlfriend.' He covered his mouth right after."  


I stared at Ray mutely. There was no way back after that, I knew my face was saying it all. "I...we..."  


"I asked Frankie. He said he couldn't speak about that, then started to talk to the little people and ignored me. Will _you_ explain this to me, Gerard?" Ray sighed. He looked more worried than angry.  


"Ok...let me tell you everything first, then we'll talk."  


I told him all about me and Frank, from the beginning. How it started, my feelings, my struggle, my doubts. How at one point I was unable to reject Frankie, having the certainty that he was as capable of being in love as I was; knowing he loved me as much as I loved him. I made it clear to Ray what my relationship with Frankie was about, how I was determined to concede, how I would never force him in any way.  


I also let my friend know what Mikey thought of it all, what had been my mother's reaction and even Bob's. I spoke from the heart, the bare truth, with tears in my eyes. He listened to me patiently and silently, not interrupting me at any moment.  


"And that's all....which is a lot," I concluded. 

He looked straight into my eyes and I endured it, unashamed. I knew he would have a lot of things to tell me. I had always said Ray was like my conscience, helping me rethink things when I'd throw myself headfirst into something. I was going to hear him, respect his opinion, take his advices if I agreed with them. But _no way_ I'd feel ashamed; I had no reason to.  


"See, Gerard. Call me naive, but I'd never suspected any of this. Even thought I'm the only one who's known you're gay since long ago. I've always thought Frankie admired you because you had taken him in, that he thought of you as his big brother. And that, really, speaks well of you. Besides the fact that I've known you since we were kids and I'm sure of your decency. And it's not only that. I've taken care of Frankie for like a month and a half, I've spend many hours with him. If there was something wrong with the boy, if this relationship you two have was bad for him, I'd notice. But he's absolutely happy, he's all smiles when he talks about you and he's still as innocent as the first day I saw him. So don't worry, Gee, I'd never think anything bad of you. That would be impossible. You're a good, decent person and nothing could make me think otherwise."  


"But..." I cut him off. I knew there was a 'but'.  


"But...I can't just congratulate you and say everything will be alright. That wouldn't be realistic, you know? I could tell you many things about Frankie, but I think Mikey and Donna have said enough. You know you have to be careful, you know you'll need to be discrete because you could get yourself into trouble. You know that even though Frankie's 18, his mental condition could change things. So I won't preach about all that anymore. However, I do need to tell you something about yourself." He poked my chest with his index finger.

"What about myself?" I questioned, watching Frank sleep peacefully.  


"You're _forgetting_ about yourself."  


"I'm not forgetting about myself, I'm doing what I feel. I love Frankie and want to be with him. Isn't that thinking about myself, too?" I retorted, trying not to raise my voice.  


"Yes, it is. You're just not thinking about all this deeply enough. You're not thinking about the future. Most of all, you're not thinking about yourself _as a man_. A man with needs, _physical_ needs. I know it's not the most important thing, that when you truly love somebody feelings transcend sex. But Gerard, when you talk about being ready to wait...have you considered the possibility of that moment _never_ arriving? I don't doubt Frank's capability to feel love and understand his own feelings and yours. I know him, I know he's a smart boy in spite of all. But let's be honest: he's like a kid most of the time, he's really innocent. Not even what that boy you told me about did to him could kill that innocence. I'd say he's still _essentially_ a virgin, in my opinion."  


"I know Ray, I know and I agree. But I only want to be with him, I don't care about sex!" I whispered.  


"You say that _now_. Are you sure you'll be able to maintain that opinion? Are you sure you'll be able to neglect your body's needs? You know that there's a possibility that Frankie will never be ready to go farther, don't you? A first experience like the one he had would leave a mark in anyone. He might not have been totally aware of what happened, but the memory remains the same," he went on, with that special way he had to speak of serious matters. Choosing the correct words, using the suitable tones. And it _was_ effective. He always made you think, it was unavoidable.  


I understood Ray. A good friend _must_ make sure that his suddenly enthusiastic buddy put all things into consideration before making an important decision. But this time I had. I had thought about it all, many times during sleepless nights and hard situations. I was sure, I was prepared.  


"I'm sure, Ray. I truly thank you for caring so much about me. You're the best friend a fuck-up like me could have. But I've considered it all. I have no doubts." I looked at Ray with a sincere, convincing smile on my lips. 

Ray stood up and hugged me, sighing louder than before. "I trust you, and I'll support you whatever you decide. But just in case, give it one more extra thought before going on with this," he said into my ear.  


	32. Chapter 32

_The loves you lost were all in vain,  
the past is all inside your brain.  
I don't think you need those memories hangin' round.  
Yeah, goodbye, kiss your past goodbye._

The following day, Ray didn't have an easy job with Frankie. The boy spent the whole morning and afternoon complaining that his foot hurt and that having to stay sat was boring. That last complaint was rather funny considering that his usual activities included drawing, reading, or playing games on the coffee table. He hadn't been so restless and hyperactive since he started taking the medication. He _did_ have his moments, but surely knew how to entertain himself quietly. Ironically, now that he was _supposed_ to stay quiet, he was dying to run around the house.

Getting him to put his foot in ice was another hard task. He was convinced that his limb would completely freeze, turn transparent and then break into millions of pieces. He'd said that to me the previous night; and even though I assured him that it wouldn't happen and he'd finally complied, he manifested the same fear to Ray the next morning. And again in the evening. Ray had patiently explained to Frankie that he had nothing to fear, but we would surely need to repeat the same lines many more times.

Ray had already left and Frankie was sitting in front of the TV, boredom painted all over his dollish face. He was constantly shifting, not finding any comfortable enough position.  


"Let me help you." I placed a cushion over the table and then carefully grabbed Frank's leg, resting his bruised foot there. The injured area had acquired a purplish coloration. "Better?"  


"A l-little. I'm s-so bored," he protested. 

I cupped his face with my hands and kissed him, succeeding at making him smile. "Is this any better?"  


"Y-yeah it...it is."  


"Then give me a couple of minutes to get things done in the kitchen and I'll come back to amuse you. We could play something, too." I pecked his lips one more time.  


"K-kay." He nodded. "H-hurry up."  


"I will. Before I leave...sure you don't need to go to the bathroom?" I asked. He didn't have the required equilibrium to jump around on one foot. 

He thought for a moment, leaning his head lazily on the backrest. "Uh...n-no."  


"Ok. But if you need to, please call me. Don't try to get up on your own, understood?" I remarked.  


"I...I kn-know. I'll c-call you."  


I began to put everything I had brought from the supermarket in place and then went about my culinary tasks. I wanted to have dinner at least half ready so I would only have to cook it later. In the meantime, I'd be left with some free time to spend with Frankie.  


I had endeavored to get better at cooking, wanting Frank to eat properly and not to live -like I'd done so far- on just junk food, pre-cooked meals or frozen stuff. My mother had kindly handed me many of her recipes, together with some expert advices.  


I had gathered all the needed elements and was going over the ingredients, when I heard a yelp followed by the sound of something falling...or _someone_. I turned round and saw Frankie sprawled on his stomach on the corridor's floor, just in front of the kitchen's door.  


"Oh, fuck! Baby, are you ok?" I ran to check on him.  


"Y-yeah...fell." he answered, seemingly unhurt. He was supporting himself on his elbows, not making any attempt to stand up.  


"Why did you get up from the couch?"  


"N-needed to p-pee."  


"Frankie! I told you to call me, I don't want you getting hurt again!" I sighed, my hands under his arms to help him up. "Come on, I'll take you to the bathroom."  


"N-no, l-leave me!" he pushed my hands away and rested his head on his crossed arms.  


"Babe, I'm not gonna leave you on the floor and...didn't you say that you needed to go pee?"  


"N-not anymore," he mumbled.  


"You'd already gone when you fell? I didn't hear you..."  


"Y-yeah...no...l-leave me," he repeated, sniffing.

Disregarding his request I lifted him, one of my hands under his right knee to keep that leg from touching the floor.  


"N-noo," he pleaded.  


"Why, Frankie?" I kissed his head, pausing to see what was wrong. He looked down at himself, so I did the same. Then I understood why he wanted me to leave him lying there. There was a large wet spot at the front of his pants and a little puddle on the floor.  


"S-sorry..." he murmured, shaking. 

I fully carried him in my arms, rubbing my cheek against his head. "Oh no, Frankie. You don't have to apologize, it was just an accident. You fell and couldn't get to the bathroom, that's all." I wasn't even going to reprimand him again for not calling me. He felt embarrassed enough.  


"I...I'm s-sorry Gee, p-please don't b-be mad...s-sorry," he kept saying in a whisper, not listening to me.  


"Frankie...baby, look at me." I waited until he did. "I'm not mad, never said I was. I'd _never_ get mad about something like this. I know other people used to get angry at you 'cause of these kind of things, but I'm different. I love you. You understand?"  


"Y-yes. I...I d-didn't want to. It...it just...es-escaped when I fell..." he insisted.  


"I know, it's fine. I'll help you get changed now."  


"K-kay." He hugged me, kissed my lips, and hid his face under my chin.

I told him to stand by the bed and grip the headboard while I lowered his pants and boxers, always looking at his eyes not to make him feel uncomfortable. Then I sat him on the bed and got the clothes off his feet.  


"I c-can put th-that on," he pointed at the dry clothes beside him.  


"Alright! Tell me if you need help with something." I knew it was safe to let him since he had the bed to hold on to.  


"Y-yeah, kay."  


I turned my back to him, collecting everything that needed to be washed and throwing it into a wicker basket.  


"G-gee?" he called. 

When I looked at him he was on his feet -or well, foot- with jeans and boxers by his ankles. It was really awkward for me to see Frank naked. Ray was right with part of what he had said to me: I couldn't _totally_ kill my natural instincts, normal _human_ instincts. Frankie was my boyfriend, I loved him and I couldn't deny that I felt tempted to look at him. It wasn't a dirty feeling, I just loved everything about him. Yet, staring seemed kind of wrong considering that he was so innocent. A huge battle was taking place inside my head.  


"G-gee...why you ar-aren't looking at me?" he questioned, worried.  


"It's just that...can you finish getting dressed by yourself? If you can't I'll help you. I just...don't want to make you feel bad, you know? Looking at you with no pants..." I babbled.  


"Y-you're my b-boyfriend. B-boyfriends can see e-each other n-naked, c-can't they?"  


I stared into his inquisitive, beautiful bright eyes and smiled, unsure of what to answer. "I...I don't know, baby."  


"Y-you don't kn-know?" he frowned and sat on the bed. "Y-you never had a b-boyfriend? Y-you're older..."  


"Yes, I did have a boyfriend before," I confessed, sitting too. Frankie was the only person to know it besides Ray. I knew I had to tell him, it was only fair. Besides, I felt secure with him; at ease, in peace.  


"Oh. An-and then why you ar-aren't with him an-anymore? Wh-what happened?" he inquired. There was no jealousy in his tone, no ill feeling. 

He touched my face softly when he saw me look down; and when I glanced back at him he appeared worried. The boy was kind-hearted beyond belief. His honest concern made my eyes water. It didn't matter anymore if he was naked or not because I was seeing him deeper, I was seeing his soul. The most beautiful soul I had ever known. And I spoke, I told him what only my best friend knew.  


"His name's Gabriel. We met when I moved here and soon fell in love. I'd never had a real boyfriend or girlfriend, though I'd always known I liked boys a lot more."  


"M-me too!" he commented grinning. "Wh-what else?"  


"I was _so_ in love that I didn't mind it if everybody knew I was gay. I wanted to proudly introduce him to my family as my boyfriend. But...Gabriel didn't think the same. He'd only had girlfriends so far and didn't want people to find out that he was with a boy. So he told me not to tell anybody. He said that he loved me and didn't want to lose me, but we could only be together if we kept it a secret.  


"Y-you couldn't t-tell your family and f-friends?"  


"No...he didn't want _anyone_ to know. He was afraid that if I told my family and friends then his people might hear about it too. It was like...he was _ashamed_ of himself!"  


"Wh-why? Grace s-said it's okay to l-like boys."  


"I know, it is. I didn't understand him either, it was stupid, but I liked him _so_ much that I did what he said. We'd only kiss and...all that when we were here at my house. He lived with his parents so we never went there." I said that part selecting my words carefully. Of course Gabriel and I would also have sex, everything was fine in that aspect; I just didn't want to include details that could incommode Frankie. "Once, Ray accidentally saw us sharing a quick kiss at the door. Only _I_ noticed. When Gabriel left I told Ray everything because I knew he would keep the secret. He promised, even though he wasn't too happy. He was always telling me to leave Gabriel, that a relationship under those kind of conditions wasn't good for anyone. Ray was right, but back then I got angry every time he'd say it."

Frankie paid attention silently, only making some short comments here and there. "B-but...you l-left him, 'c-cause you're n-not with him n-now!"  


"Yes, I did. What happened was that Gabriel had a copy of my house keys. One day, I came back home from work a lot earlier because I didn't feel well. When I got in, he was...kissing a girl on my couch." Again, I chose to make the story lighter for Frankie. In reality, I had caught Gabriel doing more than just kissing.  


"Oh!" he gasped. "H-how could he k-kiss someone with t-tits? Ewwww I'm s-sure she w-wasn't any p-prettier than you. N-no."  


"Well, true," I chuckled. "she wasn't even _that_ pretty!"  


Back then I hadn't laughed, though. When I witnessed that scene my heart broke in such a hurtful way that I thought I'd never get it fixed. No attempt at mending it had truly worked until I met Frankie.  


"Wh-what you did?"  


"The girl left embarrassed and I screamed at Gabriel; and all he cared about was that the neighbors would hear me. He said his parents had begun to suspect since he hadn't been with a girl in so long, so he needed a girlfriend to make them happy. He swore that he loved me and we could still be together if I accepted him having a girlfriend at the same time. Can you believe that, Frankie?"  


"As-asshole! S-so you k-kicked his ass?"  


"I didn't _kick_ him. I told him to give me the keys, leave my house and never come back."  


"C-cool!" Frank cheered. He brought me closer and held me tight, my head against his chest as he caressed my hair and spoke sweetly. "It...it's okay, G-gee, that boy w-was mean, you h-have _me_ now. I'd n-never kiss others 'c-cause I'm _your_ b-boyfriend! And...and I d-don't care if p-people know I'm w-with a boy. Y-you can tell ev-everybody you're with me, I d-don't mind, r-really!"  


He kissed my forehead and stayed like that, his lips against my skin, rocking me in his arms. It was the sweetest thing someone had ever told me. If something from that past was still hurting, Frankie's words -together with his soft touch- made all the pain disappear. I wished so much that things were that simple and I could actually tell the world he was my boyfriend.  


I lifted my head to reach his lips. "Thank you, baby. Thank you lots...I love you _so_ much. You're my angel, you know? Anyway, we can't tell everybody. As I've told you before, some say that it's wrong for 'normal' people to love 'special' ones this way. I know that's not true, but I'm afraid someone might try to separate us." 

Many times I had tried to explain that to Frankie, yet he never seemed to wholly understand it. I couldn't blame him. It really made no sense to declare a person incapable of loving just because of being different, and judge the other as a pervert.  


"Th-that's not t-true! It's n-not wrong that you l-love me 'cause...`cause I l-love you too. F-fuck them! B-but kay, I w-won't tell 'cause I don't w-want them to s-separate us." He kissed my nose and giggled. "Y-your nose's so s-mall and cute!"  


"Your _whole_ self is small and cute!" I pushed him down on the bed and tickled him, making him laugh loudly. Only then I realised -or remembered- that he was still naked from the waist down. "Ok, we better get you dressed."  


I was certain that the conversation we'd had would bring us even closer. I could tell Frankie everything. It didn't matter if he didn't understand it all perfectly. He listened, he cared, and that was far more important. We would always be there for each other. We were a real couple, like any other or even better. If the world couldn't accept it, then I felt sorry for the world.

******  


The following day I was walking home when I stopped at a record store, remembering the times when I would spend my extra money on CD's. Now I had even sold many of mine to have some spare savings. But despite that moment of nostalgia, I didn't regret it. Frank's happiness and our life together was well worth it.  


Suddenly, my mind made an unexpected connection: Cd's...music...bands...Frank. "Frankie's grandmother told me that her son was traveling with a band," I whispered to myself. How hadn't I ever considered trying to find out something about him? The poor man thought his son was dead!

I entered a cybercafe and sat at a computer. Cursing at the poor speed, I opened Google and stared blankly at the screen. What was I going to look for? I knew it wasn't a known band and had no idea of the name. However, I knew Frank's dad was called 'Tony', which I guessed came from 'Anthony' -as was Frank's middle name.  


I typed in 'Anthony Iero' and looked at the results. Although there were only two pages, I decided to shorten the search. I entered 'Anthony Iero + band', now getting just four results. Three of them showed my searched words in the preview, but when I checked the pages I saw nothing related. Typical.  


The last one was about a bar's inauguration, so I clicked it. Curiously, the bar was in my old town, where my mom and brother still lived. The small article, dating from two months ago, was in a local site. I read it hoping to get some information out of it. _"As many of you must know, a new big bar was inaugurated in town last night. Named 'Black Bird', the place includes a stage for local or guest bands to show what they can do. In this opening night, the surprise was a traveling blues band -as they describe themselves- named The Homeless Souls. Its members are Jake Barker (voice and harmonica), Paul Stillson (bass), Anthony Iero (guitar), Greg Thomas (drums), Victor Dees (piano) and Trevor Weizak (sax). These guys in their late thirties caused even the younger customers to clap hands enthusiastically at their professionalism and talent."_  


"The Homeless Souls," I repeated the name of the band, entering it in the search bar. Nothing interesting appeared besides other similar mentions and compliments. No phone number or any other way to contact the band, which was really odd. 

I searched the first site again, going to the 'links' section. Under 'Bars and Discos' I found Black Bird and wrote down the phone number before leaving the place.  


******  


"Black Bird bar. How can I help you?" a man's voice addressed me.  


"I am looking for information about a blues band that played there two months ago, The Homeless Souls. Did they happen to leave a number for contracts?" I asked.  


"Oh, I remember them. Very good band, pretty particular too. I asked them for a number, but they said they don't work that way. They're a 'free' band that travel the country randomly, choose places to play and then offer a demonstration out of compromise. They appeared when we were adding the last details to the bar, plugged in their instruments and started to play. They also showed me recommendations from several towns around the country, so I doubted no more and hired them. They rarely play more than one night in a row at the same place, so they told me," the guy said. It was very interesting indeed, but didn't help me at all.  


"So...there's no way to contact them?"  


"No, that time they only gave me the number of the hotel where they were staying. And they don't do big cities, so I guess it's hard to know when they're going to play next."  


"Oh...ok, thank you anyway!" I sighed and decided to go home. Why was everything about Frank's family so weird and difficult to figure out?

******  


Later, I was watching TV with Frankie when he started to complain. "G-gee...I'm b-bored!"  


"What do you wanna do, babe?" I tightened my arms around his waist.  


"W-wanna go out."  


"You can't walk yet, it's been only two days," I told him. 

He turned to me pouting. "B-but I w-want to. I...I'm t-too bored and c-can't find Puppy and...and the g-gnomes said they're t-tired of dancing and I al-already did ev-everything and...please!" he put his hands together like praying.  


"Uh...ok, we'll go in the car, but only to sit on a sidewalk with some milkshakes. Is that good?" I proposed.  


"Y-yeah that's _very_ g-good!"  


I stopped the car in front of a milkshake parlor and then helped Frank out, slightly bending so he could throw an arm around my shoulders. We were half way from there when a boy with long, black wavy hair stopped in front of us, eying Frankie. The observed one looked up, feeling the other's gaze.  


"J-Johnny!" he gasped  


"Frankie! I knew it was you! I just wanted to be sure because you look different with glasses, and your hair's longer. How are you, kiddo?" he hugged Frank happily. 

_Johnny?_ The only John Frankie had mentioned was the boy that... No, this one seemed older than Frank, even older than me; and he was being too affectionate to be _that_ John. Still...what if he was the same one anyway?  


"F-fine, and my g-glasses are great 'c-cause now I can s-see a lot b-better! But h-hurt my foot the o-other day. Y-yes." I heard Frank's voice again and I faked a cough to draw Johnny's attention.  


"Oh, sorry! I was just surprised to find Frankie here. I'm John, music teacher at the Institution where he used to live." He extended his hand and I shook it alleviated. I wouldn't have known how to react if he had been the same John that practically raped Frank.  


"I'm Gerard. I...uh..." I though of a good lie. "...my mother works at the institution where he's now and I help. Sometimes I take some of the kids for a walk. Frankie insisted though he isn't in the best condition today."  


"B-but Gee..." Frank began. I squeezed his hand and he looked at me confused. "...y-you're my..."  


"Your friend? Of course I am!" I interrupted him again, blinking in complicity.  


He finally caught it and blinked back. "Oh...y-yeah!"   


"We better go sit," I invited, guiding Frankie to one of the plastic chairs while John and I occupied the others.

"You talked about Frankie's insistence." Johnny laughed. "I remembered how he'd insist on trying all the instruments I had in the classroom. He specially loved to hit the drums mercilessly."  


"Did he learn to play any?" I asked. He watched Frank before responding. The kid was entertained reading a list of the different milkshakes available.  


"Not really. I tried to teach him all I could and he loved it, but it seems he doesn't have the needed coordination...and sometimes his hands shake too much. Anyway, I always allowed him to play around with the instruments as much as he wanted," he told me in a low voice that Frankie didn't register. "He liked to sing very much though, he does it rather well."  


"Th-the kids said I s-sang bad. They d-didn't like my v-voice, but I d-don't care. I...I d-don't care if my v-voice's ugly, I l-like to sing," Frank spoke, still looking at the list.  


"I've heard you, and don't think your voice is ugly. But you're right, what matters is that _you_ like to do it." I smiled, fighting my desire to kiss him.  


"Exactly!" the teacher agreed.  


"John...I have a doubt, so excuse my curiosity. I know the institution where you work is on the other side of the country...what are you doing here?" I questioned. I'd been thinking about it since he introduced himself.  


"Yeah, I should have clarified that point. This was a big, crazy coincidence! I came to visit some relatives, my uncles and cousins. I'm flying back home tomorrow morning, actually."  


"Then this was a _huge_ coincidence for sure! How many possibilities were there?" I was honestly shocked. Oddities kept occurring.

After ordering our milkshakes, the conversation went on. John told me more anecdotes involving Frankie and interrogated me about his health. Luckily, he never asked the name of the institution where Frank was now.  


"You know, John...my mother and I have been calling the place where you work all week. We want to talk to a nurse called Grace -or at least I _think_ she's a nurse from what Frankie said. We're always told that she's busy and they can't go for her," I presented my problem to him, realising that he could help me.  


"Ah yes, she's a nurse and a very sweet lady. All the kids love her, though she did have a preference for Frankie. But yeah...it's a pretty strict place, employees are not allowed to receive personal calls during work hours, so I'm sure they didn't even tell her that someone wanted to speak to her. Why don't you give me your phone number? I have to be back at work the day after tomorrow, I can tell her to call you when she's free," he offered.  


"That would be great, thanks!" I patted his arm, trying to keep my extreme joy from showing much.  


"You're welcome! I might give you some calls too, to see how Frankie's doing. He's such an awesome happy kid." He shoved the paper I gave him in his back pocket.  


"Sure he is. And no problem!"  


Once home I began to think about Grace. I imagined her like a very kind, lovely woman. Nevertheless I had a lot of things to tell her, and Frank would most probably want to talk to her too. How would she react to the news? How much should I disclose? Could I trust her to tell her the whole truth? 


	33. Chapter 33

_Little by little we cross the line,  
little by little the ties that bind,  
Little by little by little by little.  
little by little tonight._

Familiar, yet new sensations pierced my body. Hands caressing, hot breath being blown on my face, soft kisses, the warmth of another body pressed against mine. I felt it all yet couldn't see it; I realised I could see _nothing._  


"This is a dream," I said aloud, although I was sure my lips hadn't moved. 

I tried to open my eyes, but it was as if an extra pair of eyelids were still keeping me from seeing. That warm, almost burning sensation descended and centered on one spot. I could sense it pulsate, come to life when those hands came to a halt there, rubbing,  


The land of dreams mixed with the awake world for a moment. I was still unable to see, but this was too real; this feeling was too real to be part of a dream.

I finally opened my eyes, this time distinguishing our room lightened by the street light peeping through ajar shutters. I turned to my right and there it was: Frank's silhouette on the bed, beside me.  


Without moving, I reached back and turned on the lamp, as an involuntary moan escaped my lips. Frankie was watching me with half opened eyes, lips slightly separated. His right arm was slowly moving, and when my gaze traveled to his hand I understood the source of that sensation I'd been experiencing. His palm was touching me through my boxers, and he was also stroking himself in the same way with his other hand.  


"F-Frankie...what...what are you doing?" I asked alarmed, lost between morality and pleasure. 

He stopped all movement but kept his hands in place. I hated myself for how I wanted him to continue.  


"I...I w-woke up 'cause...'c-cause I f-felt weird down th-there, k-kinda hurt. An-and then I t-touched it and felt g-good, and l-looked at you and y-your pants l-looked like mine so I th-though you'd l-like it too," he explained timidly. It was the first time I had seen him pleasure himself _really acknowledging it_. Had we gone through a a similar wet dream or what?  


"Frankie...you don't have to do that, to me I mean..." I spoke whilst fighting the need to jerk my hips up.  


He seemed disappointed. "Y-you don't l-like it?"   


"I...I _do_ like it, but I'm not sure if this is right. I don't know if it's ok to allow you to do this..." I doubted. 

Frankie appeared absent for a moment, and he couldn't help but conduct his hand over the bulge in his underwear, gasping. "It...it's 'c-cause of what you t-told me? Th-that I'm s-special and you're n-not?" he questioned, breathing quicker.  


"Yes, kinda..." I answered honestly. 

Again he was silent for a while. I couldn't tell if he was pensive or just as distrait as I was because of the situation. I hoped my sincerity hadn't hurt him.  


"Oh...I kn-know what we c-can do!" He took my left hand and guided it to the front of his boxers. They were already humid. It felt strange, I couldn't decide if it was something positive or negative.  


"Frankie...I don't..." I tried to free my hand but he held it there, closing his eyes tightly and sighing. I was sweating profusely, wanting to comply but terrified of committing a big mistake  


"Y-you touch me and I t-touch you. F-fair that way, r-right? W-we're boyfriends so I th-think we can." He smiled and brought his index finger to his lips. "And...and w-we don't tell an-anyone."  


He let my hand go; but before I could even think of withdrawing it, his was palpating me again. Not grabbing, only grazing. 

Suddenly, at that particular instant, everything felt right. We were boyfriends, we loved each other. I was not using him, I knew I _wasn't_ and that sufficed. To start with, _Frank_ had been the one who proposed to do things this way. He had taken the initiative and his explanation made total sense to me. Nothing could be wrong when we were giving _each other_ pleasure. It was mutual. 

It was an intimate, sensual moment; though it still kept that barrier of respect. The clothes interposed between us were a symbol; one of patience and understanding. We were touching, yet not conquering. It was adequate and perfect for the time being.  


I looked into his lovestruck eyes and kissed him relaxedly. He responded as well as he managed, slightly out of breath as he was. I struggled to liberate my other hand from under my body and placed it over the pillow, running my fingers though Frank's hair. He leaned into my touch, murmuring contently.  


For a while I limited my actions to copying Frankie's. As we both felt progressively more confident, I dared to go a little farther. I grabbed him softly, continuously observing his face intently. I wanted to be sure whether he liked it. A whispered moan was followed by his body moving forward, seeking for more. He kissed me again with opened mouth, and I felt his fingers circle me, applying a small pressure.  


"Oh..." I vocalized, breaking the kiss. 

He stared at me questioningly.

"It's ok baby, I liked that," I reassured him.  


Frankie smiled and kept the pace. Even though our labored breath made it difficult to maintain our lips together for long, our foreheads were permanently in contact; our gazes fixed on each other. I did my best to keep my eyes open so I wouldn't miss a second of his face. Not a kid's but a young man's face; enjoying with no guilt, telling me without words to do the same: just _feel_ instead of thinking so much.

Frank rocked his hips more rapidly and I quickened my movements. He had lost his rhythm on me but reacted then, the proximity of the culmination giving him new strength. I reached my cuspid first, literally seeing stars with closed eyes. My load confined, my fears sent away.  


Not wasting any more time I devoted my attention back to Frankie, being careful not to abandon him in favor of my own satisfaction. His hand was still holding me and he looked surprised. He had felt it, what he caused in me. At that point his eyelids fell and he threw his head back, his whole body shaking as I felt him release too.  


Then silence and quietness, only exalted heartbeats and exhausted pants breaking it, soon gradually slowing down. After that a longer, uninterrupted kiss. With no rush, only love. Finally, those three unique words were pronounced straight from the heart.  


"I l-love you."  


"I love you."

Minutes and minutes lapsed just holding each other, and weariness was about to beat me. 

"Just a second," I whispered. I lazily headed for the closet, searching our drawers for boxers and climbing back into the bed. I helped Frankie discharge the stained ones and used them to clean him. "Lift yourself a little, don't push with your hurt foot!" I instructed, pulling his clean underwear up. Standing again, I changed myself.  


"Y-you have a n-nice ass!" I heard Frankie giggling. Everything was so normal, so natural.  


"Oh, thank you, love!" I lied back down, inviting him with open arms.  


It was still night and we fell back asleep pretty soon, tired but content. Against all odds, we had taken a step ahead. Surprisingly -having in mind all my doubts- it felt _just right_.

The following morning Frank didn't talk about what had happened, so neither did I. I didn't think it was necessary. He had been pretty comfortable with it and I felt no remorse. There was, however, something different in the air, positive. Frankie seemed to be in a real good mood and also more affectionate than ever, calling me every five minutes while I was getting ready for work to hug me or kiss me. Since he still needed to be quiet to rest his foot, I had to go to him whenever he required me. Not that I minded.  


"G-gee! C-come here?" he called me once again when I was about to cross the front door in a hurry.  


"Frankie, we _just_ said our goodbyes... _properly_ as you wanted!" I laughed. "I gotta go baby, it's too late!"  


"I kn-know but...again? G-gonna miss you!"  


"Ok, last one." I knelt in front of him -who was sitting on the couch watching TV- and he clung to me lovingly while I noisily kissed his cheek several times.

"Someone is very clingy today, it seems," Ray chuckled. "What happened?"  


My cheeks burned. "I don't know..."  Ray caught my blushing and arched an eyebrow, suspecting something. "Not _that_ much, Ray! Relax!"  


"Wh-what?" Frankie asked.  


"Nothing, pretty." I pecked his lips. "I was just telling Ray here that he'll have to pamper you a little today. He gives very good bear hugs!"  


"I don't think it'll be the same, Gee. The boy wants to hug his boyfriend, not me!" Ray pointed out. It made me happy to hear him use that word, it meant he was okay with it after all.  


"Well, I guess. But I have to work and he knows it, and I'm sure he loves his babysitter Ray very much." I glanced at my friend, aware that he hated to be called that.  


"R-ray hates that w-word, told m-me so. And...and I'm n-not a b-baby!" Frank declared.  


"You like me to call you baby, though."  


"Y-yeah but...but I'm n-not a...a _real_ b-baby, kay?"  


"Ok, I understand!"  


"I...I do l-love Ray. B-but in a...d-dif-ferent way. H-he...he's like...un-uncle Ray!"  


"Hey, kid! 'Uncle' makes me sound like an old man! I'm as old as Gerard, which makes me only 5 years older than you," he protested.  


"W-well....you're _b-both_ old!" Frankie giggled.

A look at the clock on the wall made me quit the laughter I was sharing with them. "Oh shit, I'm leaving _now_." I kissed Frankie's lips one last time. "Be a good boy, stay quiet, obey your uncle Ray and _please_ tell him if you need to go to the bathroom, ok?"  


"Y-yep! Oh G-Gee...saw P-Puppy? Can't f-find him!"  


"He must be playing invisible again, doll. I'm sure he'll appear," I told him. Ray looked at me demandingly. "I know Ray, I know. But I can't..."

That scene repeated itself almost every day. Frankie had been seeing his dog only once in a while, even less often than he saw the gnomes and the little people some days. He was worried about it. Sometimes he'd get very angry and scream at Puppy to stop getting invisible because it wasn't funny anymore. I knew I had to tell him the pup wasn't real, but I couldn't bring myself to do it after how he had reacted the first time I tried.

I arrived at the store lost in thoughts, walking in like a zombie without even checking where I was going or who passed me by.  


"Hello Gerard, dear. Is there something wrong?" Sarah touched my shoulder. 

I jumped, jolted by the sudden contact with the outside world. I'd been too lost inside my head. "Oh...sorry, I was totally distracted. Sorry for being late, too. Frankie was a little...demanding today and wouldn't let me go," I apologized.  


"You know it's fine. You're a good employee and are usually on time. I can imagine it's not easy to tell that sweet brother of yours 'no', is it?" she smiled.  


"It's not..." I shook my head, busy thinking of how weird it was to have Frankie called my _brother_. 

Sadly, I couldn't let anyone else know the truth. Although Sarah was lovely, just by telling her _part_ of the truth I would be admitting that I had previously lied to her. Besides, I would be also risking many things. I wasn't sure of what her opinion could be about me taking home a boy I had found in the street; let alone about my real relationship with Frank.  


"You still didn't tell me if you were fine," she added.  


"I was just...thinking about Frankie and his imaginary puppy. He's pretty upset because he doesn't see him too often, and I can't seem to gather the guts to tell him he's not real."  


"Again with that, Gerard? I've told you what I think, more than once."  


"Yeah but...who would take care of a real dog while I'm working? I can't burden my friend with a dog to babysit too!" I argued, arranging some things on their respective shelves.  


"Haven't you considered that Frankie might be fully capable of taking care of a dog himself? You told me he treats his imaginary pet as if it was real, so what's the difference?" 

Sarah did have a point there. Still, I wasn't certain whether I was ready for that. We'd had dogs when Mikey and I were kids, but I had never owned one myself. I didn't know if I could be responsible for both a person and a dog.  


"I'll think about it, I promise." I smiled warmly at the old woman before walking towards a customer.

******  


I was walking home later when the blood-chilling sound of brakes startled me. I stopped dead and turned my head towards the street. There was a small, black dog playfully running across the bustling avenue. It eluded a car out of luck -totally ignorant of the danger- and began to chase its tail. A couple more cars hit the breaks. I stared wide-eyed from the sidewalk, having a sense of deja-vu.  


As those first cars continued their way and being close to the sidewalk, the dog suddenly gave up the chase and decided to return to where it had come from: towards the moving traffic. My legs moved before my head consciously gave them the order. I darted to the street, crouched in front of a car and picked the little animal up. Only then I realised what I had done, where I was. I heard the scratchy noise of tires and felt something push my shoulder. I fearfully looked up with the doggie in my arms and faced a car's bumpers.  


"ARE YOU STUPID OR WHAT?" a furious man screamed from inside of it.  


"S-sorry...the dog...I..." I stammered, getting up and desperately running towards the safeness of the sidewalk.  


My legs were trembling so badly that I had to sit down. I stared at the dog's big, round brown eyes sticking out from its ebony fur. Completely black fur, not a single hair of a different color. The puppy was presumably three or four months old, not more than that. 

I lifted it, looking at his belly. "So you're a boy! What do you say about living with two human ones? I won't leave you here after risking my life for you, little one. You'll love Frankie, you'll see," I talked to him, following an impulse. I could swear he was able to comprehend what I was saying.  


A woman walked past me, shaking her head. "Crazy people..."  


"Don't pay attention, my furred friend, we're just misunderstood." I kissed the dog's nose and got up to finally go home.  


******  


"Frankie...look what I got you!" I announced as soon as I entered the house.  


"P-Puppy! You f-found him!" Frankie exclaimed and jumped from the couch, being caught by Ray just in time.  


"Hey, hey! Where are you going?" he made him sit back and Frankie stayed there pouting, reaching out with his arms like kids would do. 

I walked to him and deposited the dog on his lap. Ray eyed me as if I had lost my mind, but I grinned confidently.  


We waited patiently for Frankie to carefully examine the animal. I was wondering -and fearing- what the boy would do or say once he noticed it wasn't _his_ Puppy. He had no white spot and was slightly bigger than I imagined Puppy to be, judging by the position of Frank's arms when he'd 'hold' it.

"Wh-where you w-were, uh?" Frank spoke to him angrily, confusing me. "G-gee, look! He got b-bigger! And...h-he doesn't h-have his w-white flower spot! H-he must h-have losed it in the s-street."  


"What...?"  


"C-could you l-look for it t-tomorrow?" he requested, straight-faced.  


"I...I guess. I'll see if I can find Puppy's spot, of course." I smiled at Frank's strange idea.  


"A dog's spot can just...fall off and get lost?" Ray asked amused.  


"Of...of course! Y-you know n-nothing, Ray!"  


"You're right Frankie, I think there are _many_ things you need to teach me. But then you should be careful when you're on the street, you could lose your freckles!" my friend joked, tracing the sides of Frank's nose with a finger. 

The boy looked alarmed. "Y-you think?"  


"Yeah, but that won't happen unless you shake your head like dogs do when they're wet and want to dry themselves," I threw in, laughing.  


"I n-never do th-that!"  


"Then don't worry Frankie, you won't lose your little freckles," Ray concluded, making a big effort to not laugh too much.  


"G-good! Th-they're _mine_!" Frank said relieved. "P-Puppy, I l-love you the s-same without your wh-white flower."  


The dog appeared to smile. Placing his front paws on Frank's chest, he licked his face and even his glasses, leaving them all cloudy. Frankie was convinced that it was the same Puppy, and the dog had immediately adopted Frankie as his owner. Anyone could think they were two friends that had known each other forever. It was incredible.  


"S-stop, I c-can't see, P-Puppy!" Frankie giggled, cleaning the glasses with his t-shirt.  


"He loves you too, you can have no doubt about it!" I kissed the dog's head and felt Frank kiss my cheek. 

Sitting beside him, I placed my hand on his neck and went for his lips, kissing him slowly and deeply, forgetting Ray was still there.  


"Uh...I gotta go, boys! See you tomorrow," we heard his voice as he hurried off and waved at him, unwilling to break the kiss. Puppy spoke for us, barking at Ray with a cute baby voice and waggling his tail.

It was _so_ weird to actually be able to see and hear Puppy. However, it felt unquestionably good to know one problem was solved. I only had one concern: had Ray realised that he would have two kids to watch now? 


	34. Chapter 34

_With time the child draws in,  
this whipping boy done wrong.  
Deprived of all his thoughts  
the young man struggles on and on he's known  
a vow unto his own that never from this day  
his will they'll take away._

After a couple of days, I had to admit that Sarah was right all along about getting Frankie a real dog. I was even regretting not having done it before. Honestly, I'd barely noticed any difference in the way Frank treated Puppy now. The boy was certain that it was the same dog, so he took care of him the same way he had done since the day he 'found' him. He brought him to the backyard many times a day so he could do his things, played with him, brushed his fur and fed him. Now I was actually going to have to buy food regularly, though; I couldn't recycle it over and over because this animal did eat it.  


Frankie was extremely happy that his pet had decided to not make himself invisible anymore. For the dog's sake, I bought them some toys and balls to play with, so he wouldn't be confused when his owner threw invisible balls at him -which Frank still did sometimes.  


Things seemed to be working just fine, and Ray assured me that not the human, nor the four-legged kid were giving him much trouble.

Frank's foot was already much better. He still limped a little, but was able to step on it and walk without help. When my mother knew about what had happened and why, she instantly came up with some suggestions and Ray agreed with her somehow. They told me that maybe I should consider increasing Frank's medication; since even knowing his hallucinations were not true, he still saw them and interacted with them. They said it could be dangerous because next time his imaginary friends might provoke him to do something worse than kicking a wall.

I understood their point of view, it was a valid concern, but I didn't want Frankie turned into a zombie. Therefore, I told them I would leave things as they were for the time being; that having a full-time dog would distract him from his other friends. I didn't mention in front of my mom that I hadn't seen any change so far. Ray, of course, knew that. He'd seen Frankie playing with Puppy and the gnomes all at the same time. However, he had it clear that I would not yield that easily, so he didn't insist on his idea.

Those last days Frank had made a little progress in his reading comprehension. Even if for short periods of time, he had been more willing to cooperate and make the effort. I was trying to stimulate him as much as I could. I sat with him to draw together, I patiently listened to him read and then asked him questions, or I dictated sentences to encourage him to write. He had a rather bad orthography, but accomplished a decent block-letter writing when his hands weren't shaking much. I also gave him some simple calculations to solve, even if he hated them and found it a hard task. Goldberg had said it was helpful to make him exercise his brain as long as it was moderately. It was important to not tire or stress him too much.  


I greatly enjoyed sharing those moments with Frank, knowing I could help the person I loved in so many levels. The feeling of being so important for someone was overwhelming.  


Things were better in other aspects, also. The night before, something similar to our first sexual approximation on the couch had occurred. We were in bed and supposed to sleep; but some kissing led to caressing. Then it became playful and we were rolling and laughing, and the created friction had been finally too tempting.  


It was good to see how those kind of things had become something natural, a lot more relaxed and free of guilt on my part too. Frankie completely trusted me now, and no longer was it a problem for him to get more intimate while being on the bed. He knew we'd go only as far as he wanted to. We had never even done anything with our clothes off.  


*********  


I was close to home after work when my cellphone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but I had an idea of who it could be. With my voice a little shaky with nerves, I answered.  


"Hello?"  


"Hello. Is it Gerard Way?" a female voice asked.  


"Yes, I'm Gerard. Who's this?"  


"I'm Grace Neil, please to meet you. I've been told you wanted to talk to me about Frankie? Frank Iero?" Her tone was kind, but urgent. She was evidently very interested.  


"Uh yeah, you've been told right."  


"John said you help at the institution where he's now?" she questioned. 

I looked around, annoyed and deafened by the street noise. "Sorry, Mrs.Neil? I'm in the middle of the street right now, and I'd like to talk about this calmly. I'll arrive home in fifteen minutes, do you have time?"  


"Sure, I have three hours off, save there's an emergency. And please, call me Grace."  


"Alright then, Grace. I'll call you when I'm there. Thank you for contacting me!"  


"Thank _you_. I've been desperate to know something about Frankie. Talk to you later, then." She hung up. I turned off the phone and sped up, the urgency getting to me.

Just like the days before, I was welcomed by Frankie jumping onto me and Puppy biting my ankles. I had to be prepared and stand with my feet well placed on the ground to not fall down on my ass.  


"Ouch, Puppy! Let me walk!"  


"D-dunno why h-he likes to do th-that now!" Frankie laughed still perched on me while I tried to difficultly hold him with my free hand.  


"He's imitating _you_!"  


"N-no, I don't b-bite ankles!"  


"You've sometimes bitten my hand!" I chuckled. My arm had given in, so I left him on the floor.  


"N-no I didn't. D-don't remember!"  


"It's ok." I kissed him. It was likely that he really didn't remember; he was too messed up back then. "Ray, could you stay for a while longer? _That person_ called me, and I have to call them back now."  


"Sure, I still have time."  


"Thanks! You can go to the kitchen with Frankie and have some chocolate with cookies. I'll let you know when you can join me."  


"Yeah, no problem. Come on, Frankie! Gerard has to make some boring calls, so we'll go to the kitchen and find something more interesting to do. What do you say?"  


Frank pouted. "K-kay. B-but _just f-for a while_ , I m-missed my b-boyfriend today and want to be w-with him."   


"Just for a while, baby." I kissed the side of his mouth softly.  


I flicked through my cellphone's memory for Grace's number, but decided to use my house's phone. I was afraid that the other little fucker would run out of batteries in the middle of an important part of the conversation. 

The woman answered at the first ring, like she had been waiting by the phone. "Gerard?"  


"Yes...hello again, Grace. First of all I'm gonna answer your question. I lied to John. I didn't know him and the thing's a little...complicated."  


"What...what do you mean _complicated_? Is Frankie ok? John told me he was!"  


"Oh yes, don't worry! He's fine. I just lied about knowing him from a mental institution, he's in none. Frankie's been living with me since I found him," I said, and it was so quiet on the other side of the line that I thought she had hung up.  


"You _found_ him?" She sounded confused, surely ignoring what had been of Frankie after the last time she saw him.  


"I did, two days after he was taken out of the place where you work."  


"But...his mother picked him up...how...?" She appeared to be clueless, indeed.  


"I'll explain what happened, or at least all I know..."

I detailed everything to Grace about the day I met Frankie. Where he was, what he'd told me, and how I had decided to bring him home with me. Then I related my investigation and what I had been able to find out. All I could hear on Grace's side were gasps, exclamations and muffled curses.  


"Damn! I regret so much not having insisted..." she whispered.  


"Insisted on what?"  


"I told our boss that I didn't trust Frank's mother and we shouldn't let her take him. But he said that she was Frankie's only other known relative and he couldn't stay there for free..."  


"Then you couldn't have done anything, so don't worry," I tried to make her feel better. I didn't have anything to reproach her. The thought that was occupying my head at the moment would only be labeled as selfish: if she _had_ done something to stop Linda from taking Frank away, I would have never met him. I was thankful that Grace couldn't read my mind...  


"I guess..." she doubted. "That girl seemed regretful when she came for Frankie. She said she felt really bad for having neglected her son and would do her best for him. At a point even _I_ believed her!"  


"Fucking fake bitch!" I muttered. "Sorry..."  


"It's ok, there's no other word for her, or at least no _better_ one," she spoke with anger. "She can't even be called human. What human being refuses to take a baby to the hospital after he fell on his head? And then...who leaves their mentally ill kid alone in the street? Why couldn't she just say that she didn't want him? I would have tried to look for a solution. Not sure what, because I live here and own no house or enough money but...something!"  


"Honestly, I don't get it. Just like you, I wonder why she accepted to take him with her if she was going to abandon him. For that reason I've been trying to collect information. Maybe if we join what we both..."  


"Ok, I'll tell you all I know about Frankie first, just in case I'm interrupted. If I'm not, then you'll tell me how he's been doing and let me talk to him...please? I miss him too much." She sniffed. I was sure that she was crying now.  


"Of course."

"Well...Frankie's grandma brought him when he was 8. The old lady felt miserable for having to leave him here. She didn't specify what was wrong with her health, but explained that she was very sick and couldn't fend for herself anymore. Walking was becoming harder and harder for her and she was about to move to a nearby home for the elderly. The only possible way to have Frankie living with her was to hire a person to take care of both at her house. She had the money, but she didn't want such boring, depressing environment for her grandson. The woman thought Frankie would be better here with other kids and professional care. She _did_ promise to visit him while she could, and she did. She'd bring him presents and play with him for hours. Frank might not remember much because that only lasted three years. After that she got too sick to leave home, so she'd only call; until that stopped too."  


"Was it then that Frank had to leave?" I asked.  


"No, no. This was 5 years ago. I learned that Frank's grandma had died, but we kept receiving the money for that period of time.

"One more question: if Frank's grandma knew her daughter didn't want the kid, why did you even have Linda's data there?"  


"Requirements of the institution. They asked the woman if Frank had any other relative, just in case they needed to communicate something about him and they couldn't find her. She made the big mistake of mentioning Frank's mother. Even though she emphasized that her daughter didn't want anything to do with the kid, they still demanded that she told them Linda's name and number. However, Frank's grandma begged for them to never call her daughter."  


"Did they ever do it? I mean...call Frank's mother, before the last time."  


"Yes...but she'd rarely answer, or she'd say she was too busy. I called her several times telling her Frank needed to see an oculist. In this institution they only take care of the patients' mental problems and of course, medical emergencies or minor illnesses. For any other case, their relatives are in charge. I was really worried because I'd noticed Frankie's sight was getting worse with time, and there was no one else I could call. His mother didn't care and I wasn't allowed to take Frankie anywhere myself," she told me, fighting the constant need to cry.  


"Don't worry, I took care of that. Frankie has his glasses, now."  


"Yes, John told me Frankie had glasses! It makes me _really_ happy!" Her voice's tone changed to a cheerier one.  


"He's very happy too! And we were just in time, the oculist said that he could have gone nearly blind in a couple more years."  


"Oh, dear..."  


"Tell me, Grace...did something weird happen while Frank lived there?" I started to play Sherlock again.  


"I don't know...like what?"  


"Weird calls, or visits?" I didn't know why I was asking this. I suddenly felt, more than ever, that there was something darker behind Frank's case. 

Grace was in silence for a while, probably meditating her answer. "No calls...but there was a visit. Yes, how could I forget! About two years ago, I think, a guy came and asked to talk to the person in charge. I played fool and stayed to see what it was about. He showed us some documents and credentials proving that he worked for the government. The strangest part was what he wanted: he ordered us to delete Frank's data from all the records and never ever call the kid by his last name or mention it in front of him. He added that if we didn't comply or if we told someone else about it, the institution would be closed down." She left me frozen. That guy had been, no doubt, Linda's boyfriend -or husband. But why?  


"Why?" I said aloud. "Going so far only because Frank's mother was ashamed of her son seems stupid and unnecessary..."  


"I agree, so you know who that man was?"  


"Linda's...man, not sure if they're married. I know he works for the government and has threatened people before," I explained.  


"Oh, shit. This is all so complicated...poor Frankie, what kind of mother does he have?" Grace whimpered.  


"The worst. Frankie, however, _was_ able to remember his last name. I was glad he did because as I said, his ID was all ripped off. He told me that he heard you say it on the phone in a dream he had, though he didn't seem too sure about it being a dream."  


"His ID was in perfect condition when I handed it to his mother, _she_ must have ruined it. And Frank might have heard me on the phone, a couple of weeks before he left. I already knew he would have to and I was desperate. I wanted to find out why we kept receiving his grandmother's money for years after her death and then it suddenly stopped arriving. A friend contacted me with a judge who was going to do some research on the matter. One of the times I was in my room talking to him, Frankie walked in."  


"And did you get to know something else from that judge?" I questioned, fidgeting on the couch.  


"No...my boss caught me, he knew what I was doing. No idea how! He didn't fire me right away because we've known each other for a long time and he appreciates me, but he said nothing would stop him next time. He's been clearly scared and edgy since that strange guy paid us that visit years ago. When Frank left, he even stated that it was maybe safer not to have the boy living here anymore. I didn't dare do anything else, it feels like the walls have eyes and ears in this place."  


"Let's change the subject," I proposed, noticing that the memories were upsetting her. "tell me something about Frankie."  


"Frankie..." she uttered the name with love. "...I had this urge to protect him since the first time I saw him. He was so small that no one would have said he was 8; he looked like 5, as much. He also spoke with much more difficulty than now, pronouncing the words like a little child would besides the stuttering. It was hard to understand him sometimes, and I was basically the only one who always did. I think that brought us closer. I started to give him conversation and soon his speech improved and became clearer. I know it's still not perfect, but very good considering his brain lesion."  


"It surely is and man, he _loves_ to talk!"  


"He does!"  


"I'm curious: how's the institution? How is it...divided?" I needed to know more about the place where Frank had lived for so many years.  


"It consists of two large buildings placed together. One is for the girls and the other one for the boys, though they all eat at the same dining room. So if Frankie ever mentioned fights with girls, that's why." She laughed for the first time, while I did the same recalling Frank telling me how mean girls were. Grace continued. "Each building is divided in areas according to ages. The last one where Frank was, included 13 to 17 year-old boys."  


"But Frank was already 18..."  


"Yes, they made an exception with him. The psychiatrist didn't think it'd be good for Frank to be with older boys. He's always found it hard to make friends among boys his age, and it got worse as he grew up. If kids in general can be cruel, imagine these with all kinds of mental or serious behavioral problems. Not all of them are mean, of course. Some are very sweet just like Frankie, but many had a liking for making fun of him for any reason. He seemed to get along a lot better with younger kids, so we'd let him play with them. He was happier and there wasn't much of a difference in size, anyway."  


What Grace told me could be one of the reasons for Frankie's childish behavior; though I wasn't sure whether his environment had caused that or if it was his nature and he had only searched for his equals. Either way I would never try to change that or force him to act his age. Maybe he'd get more mature with time, being in contact with adults. If that never happened I would not mind. I loved Frankie the way he was and it's how I had met him.  


"Anything else you'd particularly like to know?" she asked kindly. I guessed I'd been quiet for a while without noticing.

"Yes...Frankie told me something about a teacher who didn't want to teach him anymore and called him retarded, he thinks he was 11 when that happened," I brought back.  


"Yes, I'm sure he was 11. That...piece of shit of a teacher. Frankie took around three years to learn how to write and read, he had only gone to kinder before coming here. I had to help him a lot, because that guy was never very patient. I don't know how he was hired and kept here for so long, where patience is one of the main requisites. He wasn't usually mean to the children, but he didn't have enough consideration. For moments he seemed to forget they were 'special'. One day he just took Frankie out of the class, brought him to me and told me that he was incapable of learning any further. He said the boy was not only crazy but retarded and would just bother the other kids. _He fucking told me all that in front of Frank!_ No one heard my complaints about the teacher. They said he was a professional and knew each child's limits; that we should just let Frankie play with his toys and not force his brain anymore. Although I didn't have much time, I wasn't going to give up on Frank so easily. I knew he could learn more. Since he loves animals, I'd make him read books about them or tell him some facts myself. I taught him how to count, some calculations...then he began to lose his sight and the possibilities got reduced. But he loves to learn..." she trailed off. "He just needs some extra patience, you know?"  


I smiled to myself. "I know, he's a smart boy. I'm helping him all I can, too."   


"Now, tell me something about Frankie nowadays. His health, how he behaves..." Grace almost implored.  


I resumed the most important facts, happenings and experiences I could remember; making her giggle, laugh and cry in a short span of time. Even though I couldn't see her and there was a vast distance in between us, I could _feel_ her love for Frankie. Her reactions and the way she spoke about him were enough to let me know how important the kid was to her.  


I told Grace the name of the medication Frank was taking, and she said it was one of the only two that worked sufficiently well for him. She commented that she'd always insisted that Frank could do fine on a similar dose to the current one; but they usually kept it higher to suppress the hallucinations.  


She then recommended having Frank's blood checked. Those meds tended to lower the number of white blood cells, and he often needed some supplements to regulate that. I promised to do it before fall, when he'd be more propense to get sick. It worried me to think of all the things I would need to have in mind and the problems that might show up along the way. But I hid it in order to sound secure for Grace.

She also confirmed what Frank had told me about being forcefully injected when he 'wasn't a good boy'. There were days when he'd refuse to take his pills; specially if Grace or the other nurses who were the nicest to him were not available, or if they didn't have the flavor of candy he liked. In those cases Frankie would bite whoever tried to get the pills into his mouth, so they'd resort to shots.  


"I stopped them many times, but others I'd be too late. They used to give him sedatives together with his normal medication when that happened, which was absolutely unnecessary. Poor angel...they left him looking like a living dead."  


"Did they ever put him in isolation? Well, if you have something like that there..." I had only seen those places in movies, and it froze my blood to imagine Frank there.  


"Only once. But what we have here is not that bad, really. It's luminous and airy, and there are plushies to play with and a TV that shows cartoons," she said, guessing where my doubts came from. "The only thing in common with those rooms you see in movies is that it's padded for the patients not to get hurt. For some of them it's a good option, it calms them down. We never leave them there more than one, two hours tops. Frankie...he's never liked to be alone, so it just made him desperate and more nervous than he was. After that first, fruitless attempt, I told them that I'd take care of Frank's nervous episodes from then on."  


"Oh, good..." I was really relieved to hear that, even if the room wasn't as creepy as I'd imagined.

More than an hour and a half went by and we were still on the phone sharing memories and stories. I was telling her about Puppy when Frankie came into the living room and plopped down on the couch beside me.  


"He was too quick, sorry," Ray apologized.  


"B-booored. W-who you t-talking to?" Frank neared his ear to mine.  


"It's Grace, I'll let you talk to her in a while," I told him. 

He widened his eyes in surprise. "G-grace? _M-my_ Grace?"  


"Yes!" Frank's smile was gigantic after having the confirmation.  


"Frankie's there?" she whispered.  


The boy held the handset, trying to snatch it from me. "L-lemme!"    


"Just a minute Frankie, I told you I'll let you talk to her!"  


"N-no... NOW!"  


"Frankie, just..."  


"G-GRACE!" he screamed close to my face. "G-Gerard's my b-boyfriend, I h-have a real boyfriend n-now!"

Ray looked at me mutely. I looked at Frankie, my mouth falling open. The hand that was holding the phone rested on my lap, I was terrified. Frankie was smiling and jumping on the couch.  


"Hello? HELLO?" Grace's voice reached me and I had to gather a lot of courage to bring the phone back to my ear and speak again.  


"Grace I...let me explain it all before you form an opinion, please," I faltered. 

She sighed loudly, irritated. "Let me talk to Frankie first. No 'buts'. _Now._ "  


"Grace wants to talk to you, Frankie." I handed him the phone and felt myself near to crying. Ray squeezed my shoulder, trying to give me strength.  


"Wait...." he said.  


"G-grace! M-missed you! Y-you know? I...I l-live with Gee and...and I h-have glasses and can s-see better now and r-read and all th-that! Oh and I h-have a dog that's c-called Puppy! H-he was in-invisible sometimes but n-now he's not an-anymore but...b-but he lost his s-spot. It w-was like a f-flower. T-told Gee to see if he f-finds it in the s-street. Y-yeah. An-and I'm a g-good boy and take my p-pills and the d-doctor said I'm b-better and Gerard's v-very very nice and also R-Ray that takes care of m-me and then D-Donna...y-yeah?" 

Frankie chattered non-stop, barely breathing in between sentences, wanting to fit almost two months into a minute. Then he suddenly made a pause, listening and nodding as if Grace could see him.  


"K-kay. Yeah." He got up, walked to the smaller couch, and sat down on it Indian style facing the wall. "Y-yes."  


"What the...?" Ray and I exchanged confused looks.  


"Y-yes, I am. N-no he can't. N-no, he didn't t-tell me to say an-anything! Yep, p-promise. I kn-know, lying is b-bad!" I heard Frank answer while playing with his hair. 

It made me desperate not to know what Grace was telling him, and now I couldn't even see Frank's face. I assumed that she had instructed him to sit like that, far away and turning his back on me; so I could not hear her or indicate Frankie what to say.  


I stayed there, isolated, and listened to Frank's monologue trying to get something out if it. Ray went back to the kitchen.

"Y-yes he's my b-boyfriend. F-first he said we c-couldn't be, 'cause people d-don't like it when s-someone special l-loves someone that's n-not special. B-but one n-night we...we had a d-date...like in m-movies! And h-he asked me to b-be his boyfriend! I s-said yes!" he related excitingly and stopped to listen..  


"K-kay. T-told you I n-never lie! N-no. NO! N-no never!" he gasped. "W-we kiss a l-lot, I like th-that very much and we h-hold hands! Y-yes...caress-es, yes. A....a l-little. B-but he as-asked me if it w-was ok, and I t-told him it was 'cause f-felt good. Uh..." He seemed to be thinking about something Grace had asked him. Meanwhile, I was hyperventilating.  


"N-no, I'm here! N-no, not t-talking to Gee! C-can't see h-him from here! K-kay. I kn-know. W-we...yeah, once. N-no, not n-naked! W-we had pants! And I t-touched him t-too. No, r-really! Y-yes I liked it!" I almost had a heart attack hearing what he had said. He moved his face a little to the side, and I could see that he was blushing.

This couldn't be happening. Grace would _hate_ me.

 "N-no, Grace! I l-liked it a l-lot! N-no told you he d-didn't. N-no, d-didn't try! I t-told him 'b-bout John and wh-what you said. He s-said it was f-fine and he w-would never make me d-do anything if I didn't w-want to. R-really, he's g-good and I l-love him and he l-loves me and takes c-care of me...and is the b-best boyfriend ever!"

The conversation went on for at least ten more minutes. I was sure that Grace had asked Frankie the same questions once and again to see if he would answer identically each time. Apparently, he did.  


"I s-swear I won't t-tell him. Y-yes, tell me. Y-yes, I t-told Gee that...aha. Y-yes I'm sure, I l-love him." He made the longest pause. "K-kay, but...n-not sure if I w-want to do that. B-because when John...oh...k-kay. Y-yes, I do. Y-yes I un-understand!" He nodded several times. "An-anything I don't like...I t-tell him to stop. Y-yes, get it." He seemed to be getting some advices from Grace. "L-love you too. K-kay." 

He then came and gave me the phone, grinning. "G-grace said she w-wants to talk to y-you now."  


"Hello?" I said timidly, expecting her to call me every existing insult.  


"Gerard..." surprisingly, she didn't sound mad.  


"I...I don't know what to say, I swear..."  


"Look: I know Frankie, I can tell when he's lying or hiding something. He's a bad liar and rarely even _tries_. As you must have imagined, I asked him lots of questions; and I believed him, I know he answered them all with the truth. Let's say that you passed the test... _for now_. And...you have extra points in your favor because of the way you've helped Frankie and how you talk about him. However, I'll be calling Frank often to check on him, so you better behave because if you mess up...I'll know it. Now let me hear your version." She sounded firm, but still amazingly kind.  


I poured all my feelings for Frankie into the phone and answered all her questions, even some that were rather intimate and made me feel embarrassed. Anything to leave her satisfied and put her mind at ease. I seemed to have achieved it since she wasn't bitching at me.

"Could you tell me something else about what happened with that boy John?" I asked her, motioning for Ray to entertain Frankie.  


"Ok. It wasn't too long ago, almost three months before Frankie left. John's two years younger than Frank, and they were in the same room. That boy had been in the institution for two years when the...incident with Frankie occurred. When he arrived, his family had just found him after six months of being missing from home. Someone had spotted him walking around aimlessly. His case was very similar to autism, though he hadn't presented any symptom before. He wouldn't speak or pay much attention to anything or anyone and he didn't like people touching him. No one knew what had happened to him in the street or where he'd been, we still don't know for sure. Frankie started to get close and talk to him, and John for some unknown reason trusted Frank. The director saw their friendship as a good thing for John's recovery, so he moved him to Frank's room. Soon John was speaking to Frankie, and then he began to communicate with us too. One day, during dinner, John declared that Frankie was his boyfriend. As you must have noticed, Frankie has seen many love movies, so he was extremely happy to hear that. I don't think he really _loved_ John -like I can feel he loves you- but it was exciting for him to have a boyfriend. We didn't think anything bad of it, it was like a childish game. John still wouldn't let Frank touch him, neither would he touch Frank and they'd never kiss. The only 'boyfriend thing' about them was the word itself, like kindergarten kids or less. Frankie felt a little frustrated by that, because he'd dreamed of doing romantic things with John, but he had a lot of patience and accepted him the same."  


"Frankie said that the first time they...you know, did it, no one found out." I hesitated, permanently afraid of offending her.

"No, we didn't. Later on I thought back and realised that Frank had acted a little weird for some days at the time, but with kids with his problems you don't suspect...they're always very changing. One day, I went to their room and heard Frankie screaming at John to stop, that he didn't want to. I entered and they were both naked, John on top of Frankie. I sent John outside and had a talk with Frank. It was then when he told me they'd already had sex once. I swear we had _never_ imagined that John could be capable of that, many of us still blame ourselves for it. Luckily, Frankie didn't completely understand. I mean, he knows what they did, but not that in most cases that's considered rape. I think it's better for him."  


"Yeah..." I flinched imagining the scene. "No one has ever had a conversation about sex with Frankie?"  


"Yes, many times, but he doesn't always pay attention or understand everything. He also tends to forget some things. And you know how he doesn't recognize danger? Maybe that counts for these cases too, I'm not sure. We _had_ told Frank what making love was, and that he shouldn't do it if he didn't want to. I guess John said the right words to convince him. It's really easy to do that with Frank, sadly. That's why I'm being so insistent with you."  


"What happened to John?" I deliberately ignored her last line, I was too nervous and also sad with the talk about Frank's past.  


"Nothing, he's a minor and mentally unstable. He was just changed to a different area. He always asks for Frank and doesn't seem to think he did anything wrong. After that I chose to tell Frank to not let _anyone_ do that to him again, because I thought it would be safer than a new explanation."  


"I understand, really. I think you did well, all the more in a place like that when one can't totally control what happens," I agreed. "And please don't worry, I'd never hurt Frankie in any way, I truly love him."  


"I know," she said. "Thanks, Gerard. Thank you very much for everything."  


"Thank _you_ for protecting him all those years like a mother would. Now I know why Frankie loves you so much and always talks about you. I'll let you speak to him until you have to go back to work. Bye Grace, please to meet you!"  


"Ok! Oh but first, please write down this number."  


"Whose number?"  


"Remember the judge I told you about?"  


"Yes..."  


"Well, you should call him, mentioning me. He had no way to get in touch with me and I never called him again, maybe he'd found something. His name is Alexander Hawkins...and Frank's grandmother's was Alice Caravaggio. Got it? Ok, now the phone number..."  


"Yes, tell me." I wrote everything down, adding Grace's whole name too before I forgot it.  


"Thanks, Grace! I'll let you know what he said next time you call."  


"Bye, Gerard...and please to meet you too!" she expressed. 

I gave the phone back to Frankie and went to join Ray, allowing them some privacy. I was calmer now.  


While in the kitchen, I felt something tugging at my pants. 

"Hey, Puppy! What are you doing, buddy? Want some milk? Yes, you do...oh, with cookies in it? Uh...ok, but just for today!" I talked to the small dog. He was sitting in front of me, wiggling his tail and staring with shiny eyes. I somehow interpreted that look as a 'cookie look'. Grabbing a plate, I poured some milk and broke three cookies into little pieces. Puppy waited impatiently; wet, pink tongue sticking out of his mouth. "Here you are...easy, boy!" I advised. He attacked his meal, splattering loudly. Behind that noise, I distinguished Frankie's laughter.  


I was unsure of how much things would change now that Grace knew about Frank and me. Would she really call often and interrogate Frank? Would Frank tell her everything we might do? How would she react if we went farther? Would she accept it as long as Frank was fine?

My only certainty was that I didn't regret contacting her. I had understood that Grace was the mother that Linda had never wanted to be for Frank; they needed each other. It was a pity that we lived so far away, though at least they had the phone.  


I was washing Puppy's plate when Frank tapped me on the shoulder. "Oh, you scared me! I didn't hear you enter..."  


He giggled. "I...I'm m-mysterious!"  


"Yep, you definitely are. Did you want something?"  


"G-grace told me to g-give you a m-message."  


"What is it?" I asked.  


" _W-watch out, I'll kn-know it all_." 


	35. Chapter 35

_We got something to believe in  
even if we don't know where we stand.  
Only God would know the reasons  
but I bet he must have had a plan..._

Sarah had a sudden family obligation to attend that day. She closed the store earlier and told us all that we could leave. I wasn't expected home for two more hours, so I decided to go somewhere else. Of course it wasn't that I didn't want to go home. Each day while working all I longed for was the moment when I'd be back to Frankie. I _loved_ to be welcomed by him; see his smile, feel his hugs, taste his kisses. But I was conscious of how long I'd gone without some time for myself, and I knew it was necessary. Some hours on my own to think without distractions, to listen to my own thoughts and see where I was standing.

I walked slowly, enjoying the sun on my face instead of trying to hide from it. With fall being still a month away, the air was humid and warm. I wasn't used to being out at that hour, when the day was so clear that you needed to squint; when everybody was -same as I would be in any normal day- working or just escaping the summer heat. There were no rushed cars or pedestrians in sight. It was an enjoyable view and the town offered that needed silence.

I made a recount of the past days and of how much more I had learned about Frank. It had been strange. I gave myself permission to doubt and be scared, since there was no one there to act strong for. I was still decided to go on with my investigation, but I couldn't deny my fear; it existed and had become stronger.  


Quickly, I shook my head to push the fear aside. My dad had once told me: 'When you dedicate too much time to think about your fears, is when they win you over.' It was true.  


I realised that my feet were leading me to a familiar part of town. It was the path I'd take every day until two months before. Spotting the Comic Shop, I thought of paying Bob a visit.  


I froze as I contemplated the entrance, taking notice of the important connection that place held with the life I had left behind. A big part of what had affected me and shaped me along those last years of my life was related to that building or its people.  


It had been around the time when I was hired that I met Gabriel. Many times he'd come pick me up, making sure that it wouldn't look suspicious. He was always so careful, _too_ careful. Exaggeratedly concerned about what people could think.  


It was when my relationship with Gabriel ended that I met Bob, who was the new employee. I helped him get used to the job and he'd hear me rant about my broken heart; never mentioning names or gender, most probably a matter of habit and not of shame. I had gotten accustomed to being discreet by Gabriel's request.  


Then came the afternoon or nightly escapades to the bar, in which Bob would only drink to reach a 'happy state' while I would try to get wasted enough to stop thinking.

My brother and Ray knew something was wrong, though I had only told Ray about Gabriel. I swore that everything was alright and I just needed some time to get on my feet. I kept avoiding them. They knew me too well and if I was often around them they'd eventually find out.

It was at that same comic shop that I met someone else and it again, didn't work.

Maybe there was something wrong with that place. Maybe I was bound to leave and only then find my real path in life. I didn't pay attention to those kind of things at that time, but lately I had learned to believe in fate; even _trust_ it.

I bravely entered the shop, casting a nervous look around the place. Bob was behind the counter typing something into the old computer. It was really, _really_ old, yet it sufficed for what it was needed. Before I could say hello to him, my old boss appeared. He glared at me, wanting to set the fact that I wasn't welcomed. As if I needed more proof.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. Bob looked up from his task and waved.  


"Just visiting my friend. Don't worry, I won't stay much," I replied just as bitterly. I hated rancorous people. The man turned his back on me and walked away.  


I leaned on the counter. "Isn't he _ever_ going to forgive me? I'm not fucking asking him to hire me again, just to stop looking at me like I'm the worst piece of shit!" Bob only laughed at that, going through the pages of an old Superman issue. He was a superhero-freak, no surprise he loved to call himself 'Super Bob'. "It's not funny, Bob."  


"Yes it is...or it _was_." He snickered. 

I knew what he was talking about, and that is why I was so annoyed. "No, the way I lost my job wasn't funny either."  


"Oh, come on! It _so_ was!" he insisted. I was not amused in the slightest. Bob finally got it and sobered up. "Ok, ok. Maybe it wasn't funny _at the moment_. But now you have a new job and a new life, so it doesn't affect you. Have that in mind and think about it again..." 

I did. I let the person I now was rethink and reconsider that past situation. Two months later and from my brand new point of view it was, definitely, funny.  


"You're right." I nodded, smiling.  


" _That_ is what I wanted to hear!" Bob pointed at me and then got lost in thought, chuckling again. "Oh my...you just _had_ to puke all over the pile of new comics when the boss came to talk to you!"  


"I couldn't have _chosen_ when to do it. I felt like shit, man!" I laughed now, as if the experience wasn't mine anymore.  


"Well, I would have felt like shit too...anyone would! Who drinks so much whiskey at 10 in the morning? I still remember when you entered the shop, you could barely walk," Bob recalled. 

I remembered too, and it all replayed in my head as I sat on the floor.  


******

The night before I was fired, I had broken up with Laura. Laura, who I had met in that same comic shop almost three months earlier. At that point in my life, I was sure that I wasn't interested in girls. However, my first serious experience with a boy had gone so wrong, that I was determined to neglect my own feelings and give a girl a try. Perhaps it would mean less problems, there would be nothing to hide. I honestly didn't understand what the point in hiding who you liked was and I didn't need to; but I knew that not everybody was prepared to share their sexuality with the world.  


Laura was a nice, pretty girl with dark blond hair and gray eyes. Very smart, too. She used to visit the shop to buy some comics for her little brother. Bob had noticed her looking at me -so he told me- and he was the one who closed the gap in between us and encouraged us to talk. Soon after that we started dating. I slowed down on my drinking, having someone to distract me from my dark thoughts and Gabriel's memory.  


My friends and family had loved her as soon as they met her. They were so happy for me -thinking that she'd be the love of my life, that I ended up feeling guilty. Sometimes I would feel like I was using Laura for a trial, an experiment; just because I was afraid of being alone again. In my own way I _did_ love her. Laura was excellent company and we got along very well...as friends.  


As weeks passed by she wanted more. She didn't ask for anything unusual, just the normal things any couple would do once they got to know each other enough. But I couldn't go past the stage of kisses and caresses. In Frank's case I had _chosen_ not to go farther. I wanted to wait until he was ready and I didn't feel the necessity to do anything else. With Laura I just _couldn't_ , the desire wasn't there, I didn't feel sexually attracted to her. I had noticed that she was feeling rejected. She was beginning to think she'd done something wrong or that she wasn't attractive enough.

One night, I drank some beers with Bob to gave myself courage and went to pick her up. We spent the night out and wound up having sex. I had never felt so weird and out of place in my life. Embarrassing and low as it might sound, I resorted to thinking of Gabriel to get turned on. Still, it hadn't been the same. I had done my best to hide all the negative feelings and not let my face give them away. I'd concentrated on not moaning the wrong name -a cliche I was afraid of- and mostly tried to forget the fact that it was my _first time_.

Gabriel and I had made love several times, but I had always been the passive one. I had made myself believe that we always did it that way because it's how we both liked it most. The truth was -and now with the memory gone cold I could admit it- that Gabriel had never wanted us to try it the other way round; even if I had proposed it. To him, it would have meant graduating as a fag. That was something my ex had always been very afraid -and ashamed- of.

Laura hadn't noticed my pondering or if she had, she hadn't let me know. Nevertheless I felt very uncomfortable after that night. I had started to drink more again, visiting bars almost every night. I was never in the mood to go out with Laura, yet I'd never be mean to her. All the contrary, I would always look for a polite way to reject her invitations, find the perfect excuse so she wouldn't know the truth.  


She put up with me for one more month, maybe even longer. She had assumed that I was depressed and needed support. Finally, we took conscience that things weren't working. I knew that I would only hurt her if we persisted and it wasn't fair to her. We resolved, by mutual agreement, to break up.  


As soon as my friends and family found out -or better said after I commented about it to Mikey and he told everybody- the phone calls started; all of them blaming me and asking what I'd done to her. That's why I had left my phone home and spent the whole night drinking.

The following morning I only went home to take a shower and then headed for work. I hadn't walked more than a couple of blocks when the gloomy sensation returned. I didn't give a fuck about anything. I felt like I had fucked up my opportunity to have a normal life. I entered a bar, drank two bottles of whiskey and then went on my way.

******  


Now with my mind back in the present, I looked at Bob who had stayed in silence, respecting mine.  


"I was really... _really_ fucked up," I answered at last, remembering my poor state when I crossed the shop's door that dreadful morning.  


"Oh, yes you were! I made you sit down right away so the boss wouldn't notice," he threw in. "A new shipment had arrived and we took advantage of that. We were supposed to separate all the magazines to then place them on the shelves, so that explained us being on the floor."  


"Dunno. I had no idea what I was doing, I'd never been so drunk in my life -I guess because I hadn't given myself the chance to recover from the previous night. Then I suddenly felt sick, too sick. I didn't have time to tell you anything or try to get up or move because...I wasn't able to. A minute later I was feeling a lot better, but the pile of comics in front of me was bathed in vomit and reeking. I raised my eyes and there was Richard, looking at me disgusted," I related the episode.  


"And you made it worse when you tried to speak and only managed to slur 'Sooowy, boss...maywe I can wash them?' That was...classic!" He was laughing hysterically and I couldn't help but join him. It was the first time I had allowed myself to talk about it; and now that it was history I found it just hilarious.  


"What the fuck are you doing? Even without working here you cause me trouble, Gerard?" Richard asked gravely. Bob and I shut up, trying to keep a straight face but failing.  


"Sorry, we were just talking and suddenly remembered something funny. I'm leaving now!" I told him half giggling.  


"Ok..." he disappeared again.  


"Oh, Gerard...wanna go for a drink? You can have a soda," Bob invited. 

I meditated my answer. "I think a glass of beer won't kill me," I replied convinced.  


We went for it and I kept my promise, drinking only one glass. I had this idea that giving myself permission to drink some beer once in a while helped keep my yearning for something stronger under control. On the other hand I knew that I was playing with fire. 

When I was leaving, chewing on a mint gum to get rid of the alcohol smell, Bob stopped me. "I have nothing to do this Sunday. Wanna go to the Zoo with Frankie?"  


"Yeah, let's do it! Maybe I'll tell Ray too, he deserves some fun."  


"Ok, I'll call you to set up the hour, ok?"  


"Ok! Bye Bob!"

At home, I found Ray cleaning the couch. Frankie wasn't there, only Puppy ran to me barking happily.  


"What happened there? Was it you, Puppy? Don't tell me you peed on the couch!" I talked to the dog, picking him up. He licked my face and made that grimace that was so close to a smile.  


"No...it wasn't Puppy, it was Frankie," Ray replied, sounding worried. I was intrigued now. It wasn't the first time Frank had mistaken something for the bathroom. He had never mistaken it for the couch until then, but it wasn't something to worry about. We were used to it.  


"Wrong place again?"  


"No...he peed on himself while sleeping. He looked distressed, like he was having a nightmare. I went to see if he was fine and he had awakened. When he realised what had happened, he ran to the bedroom and closed the door," Ray informed me. Now I knew the reason for his face, that had _never_ happened before.  


"Are you sure Frank's fine?"  


"Yes...well, at least he was calm. I didn't dare enter, I was afraid he'd get nervous. I spied through the door lock and he had changed his pants and was curled up on the bed."

I entered the room, trying not to make much noise. When Frank saw me his eyes went big with fear. He plunged to the floor, grabbed the wet clothes and hid under the bed. 

I lied down on my stomach to be able to look at him. "Frankie, why are you hiding, baby? I've missed you, come give me a hug?"  


"N-no..."  


"Why?"  


"'C-cause you...m-maybe you'll be m-mad and h-hit me," he whispered.  


"What? Do you hear what you're saying, Frankie? I won't hit you! I've never done it and I never will! Why would I?"  


"I...I p-peed on the c-couch...d-dunno why, I was s-sleeping. And h-he...he'd h-hit me when I did th-that on the b-bed...." Frankie sobbed over his crossed arms.  


"I know, you told me. But I'm _not_ him, babe. Is that what you dreamed of? With that man?"  


"N-no...but he d-did that. I d-dreamed other things, w-was in the o-other place, was ol-older."

I took him by the elbows and pulled him out, sitting him on my lap. He tried to get away, but I didn't let him. "Shh...I'm not angry at all, you don't have anything to fear. Tell me what you dreamed, it'll make you feel better."  


"K-kay..." he relaxed and hugged my neck, kissing my lips very lightly. Then he stayed quiet, staring at me. He didn't have his glasses on and when I looked into his eyes I saw love, but also hurt. "Th-they were h-holding me, three of th-them so I c-couldn't escape or k-kick them. I s-screamed but G-grace didn't hear m-me. And...and it h-hurt! Th-they were g-grabbing me too hard and it h-hurt, my w-wrists and feet. An-and one had a h-huge sy...syr..."  


"Syringe?" I guessed.  


"Y-yeah, that. And I c-couldn't do anything and h-he gave me the sh-shot and it h-hurt so much and...then they t-took me to that r-room again. Th-the one that's all l-like...like a biiiig m-mattress. I d-didn't want to be al-alone there. W-wanted out. I f-felt so dizzy and c-could not walk. I w-wasn't bad, really! I...I was on-only crying 'cause c-couldn't find G-Grace! Th-then I screamed a l-lot and I think I f-fell asleep and then I w-was in my bed," he described his dream which was evidently about memories from when he was in the institution. They had probably come back to him after talking to Grace. Only one thing left me thinking: Grace had told me that Frankie was in isolation only once. However, Frankie had just said 'again'.  


"Frankie, you had been in that room before, hadn't you? The one that looked like a mattress?"  


"Y-yeah, once."  


"And that second time that you dreamed of, it happened too? In real life?"  


"Th-think it did. Y-yeah...I'm s-sure." He nodded, a single tear rolling down his cheek.  


"Grace never knew about it?"  


"Th-they told me not to t-tell her or they'd use a b-bigger needle next t-time," he confirmed. Not even expensive private places were free of assholes.  


"And did they ever take you there again?" I questioned, concerned.  


"N-no, 'cause G-Grace was th-there and never let th-them." I was glad to hear that answer.  


"You know what? Now we're gonna forget about all those bad things and you'll also forget about the little accident you had today. No one's angry. I already forgot and Ray already forgot!"  


"K-kay, I'll f-forget."  


"And...I love you so much and I'm so proud of the good, sweet, smart boy you are, that I have a surprise for you," I announced.  


"T-tell me! T-tell me tell me t-tell me! N-no surprise, w-wanna know _now_!" he grasped my t-shirt and shook me.  


"Ok! But you'll have to wait until Sunday, anyway. You, Bob, Ray -if he accepts- and I are gonna go to the Zoo!"  


"Y-YES! L-LOVE YOU!" he kissed me deeply and feelingly, our tongues playing for a while and acting like the best distraction. Another one of those times when we'd have two very contrasting situations in a row. For anyone else, something extremely odd. For me, the most normal thing in the world.  


As if having been spring-propelled, Frankie got up and ran out of the room. I followed and found him talking to Ray excitingly with rapid hand movements. "W-we're going to the Z-zoo on S-Sunday! S-say you'll c-come with us! P-pleaseee. P-please please p-please come!"  


"Uh...I guess I can't say no, can I?" Ray looked at me laughing.  


"N-nope you c-can't. 'C-cause if you s-say no...the ar-army of little p-people will kick y-your ass. D-don't care if you d-don't see them, they'll k-kick you the s-same!" Frankie menaced.  


"Then more than ever. I say yes, I'm going!"  


*********  


When I opened the door for Bob that Sunday morning, I noticed that something was different, though I couldn't put a finger on what. Frankie and I had stayed up watching movies until really late the night before, so I wasn't with all my senses on. As Bob stepped in, I stared at him numbly. He smirked, clearly enjoying my confusion.  


"B-Bob! You sh-shaved!" Frankie screamed from behind me. So _that_ was it.  


"It's true! How come I couldn't figure out what was different about you?" I scratched my head.  


"Maybe if you tried fully opening your eyes, sleepy head?" he patted my back and went to hug Frankie, lifting him and making him stand over the coffee table.  


"Wh-what..?"  


"Now you can appreciate me better. What do you think, kid?" he interrogated him. 

Frankie adjusted his glasses with an intellectual gesture and studied Bob's face from every angle. "Uh...you l-look...weird..."  


"That for sure!" I interrupted.  


"Shh...he's the expert here!" Bob shushed me. "Ignore your boyfriend and continue, Frankie boy."  


Frank touched Bob's chin. "W-weird but...b-but good, and your f-face's soft now. Y-you look young!"  


"Hey! I look young because I _am_ young! I'm only 2 years older than you!"  


"H-how old?"

"Fraaankie..." I pinched his belly, making him giggle. "He just told you. Don't be lazy, it's no huge calculation!"  


"Mmm...y-you're...20! R-right, Bob?"  


"Yep."  


"Oh! I th-thought you were old l-like Gee!"  


"What? You think I'm an old man, baby?" I simulated annoyance.  


"Y-yesss! Y-you and Ray are _o-old_." He doubled over with laughter and almost fell from the table, but Bob caught him. "S-super Bob saved m-me!" he continued laughing.

"Did I hear someone calling me old?" Ray, who had been drinking coffee in the kitchen, appeared.  


"Y-yes! O-old uncle Ray! And...and p-papa Gee!" Frankie was on the floor now, having a serious laugh attack. 

I picked him up and sat down with him on my lap. "Oh, yeah? I'm your _papa_ now? Too old to be your boyfriend?" I joked. 

He suddenly stopped laughing and looked up at me, catching up his breath. "N-no, it was a j-joke! Y-you're not too o-old for that! It...it's on-only..." He put his open hand in front of his face and touched each finger while murmuring, "N-nineteen...t-twenty...twenty one...t-twenty two...twenty th-three. Th-that's...five! On-only 5 years, so n-not much. N-nope."  


"You're not gonna change me for a younger boy, then?"  


"N-NO! NEVER!" he shouted.  


"Uff! I was scared for a while! Then I guess I can do this..." Placing my hand on his neck to support his head, I laid him back a little, kissing him passionately in a Hollywood-style. He followed the scene perfectly, his hands over my shoulders as he responded to my actions with equal intensity. Our two friends completed the moment adding the soundtrack, only that instead of a love song it was a duet of 'awwws'. 

We broke the kiss and with a quick move, I brought Frankie to a sat up position, his long entangled hair flying around and falling on his face.  


"You're just too pretty, you know that?" I brushed his hair back.  


"Y-yeah but you're m-more!"  


"No, _you_ are!"  


"Y-you!"  


"Boys! What about this is a tie and you're both the prettiest boys around and we leave already?" Bob suggested.  


"Yes, I think this was enough Saturday-evening-cheesy-love-movie time for a Sunday morning!" Ray added.  


"Jealous bitches!" I spat, getting up together with Frankie. The boy just laughed again. "But ok, let's go."

Although Ray and Bob obviously knew each other, they weren't exactly friends. Not because they didn't want to, but because they'd never had the chance. They had only met a few times when I invited them for my birthday or random get-togethers. Other than that, I'd always hang out with them separately. Maybe because they were so different from each other, I had needed those two points of view to not mix.  


For this opportunity, they seemed to get along considerably well. They talked about music, instruments, comics and even jobs. It was when Frankie complained that he was bored that they began to disagree. Bob -like always- went for the loud, crazy, somewhat physical ways of fun. Ray, on the other hand, reprimanded the blond one because he believed that it wasn't good for Frankie to get so worked up and hyper. I chose to just listen and have fun, they made the car ride rather entertaining.    


"Oh, Ray...one day of fun is one day of fun! It's not like we're gonna visit a boring historic museum," Bob claimed.  


"I know, but I wanna see you control Frankie if he's too excited by the time we get to the zoo," Ray returned.  


"No problem, Super Bob can handle hyper short kids like nothing!"  


"S-super Bob can d-do it all! He r-rocks!" Frankie intervened.  


"Yeah? You don't even care that he calls you short?" Ray questioned.  


"N-nope, I like b-being small 'cause ev-everybody carries me and it...it's n-nice!"  


"And then he gets angry when we call him a baby!" I snickered.  


"D-don't be mean! N-not a baby but...but l-like it the s-same."  


"Then stop eating so much, or we won't be able to carry you anymore!" Ray's voice was heard and right after the mirror showed me something passing fast over Bob and landing on Ray. I turned my head and it was Frankie, sitting on him and punching his chest.  


"Frankie! What are you doing?" I called him.  


"H-he's mean!"  


"He was joking, babe!"  


"Y-yeah? You w-were, Ray?"  


"Of course I was joking! You're not too heavy at all, really. Stop beating me?"  


"K-kay." Frank went back to his place and we spent the rest of the ride singing, an activity everybody agreed with.

***********  


We entered the zoo, me holding Frank's hand. Everything was fine until I let go of it for a second to search for my wallet. Big mistake. He took the chance to shoot himself out of my reach and ran away.  


"Shit," I muttered. "Guys, would you please go get him while I buy the tickets?"  


"Let's go, Ray!" Bob caught him by an arm and sprinted off.  


When it was my turn to pay, the girl in charge observed me weirdly and then looked past me. My friends had returned with a sulking Frankie secured in between both their grips.  


"He'd gone to see the monkeys," Ray informed. "Good that we found him before he was mistaken for one!"  


"Don't worry, they won't mistaken Frankie when you are with us." Bob chuckled.  


Ray puffed. "Veeery funny."   


"M-monkeys don't have a f-fro..." Frank shook his head.  


"See? The boy knows better than you." Ray pushed Bob playfully and they chortled. Was I suddenly surrounded by little kids or what?  


"Excuse me..." the girl at the entrance addressed me. "I've notice you have a...special kid with you."  


"H-heard, Gee? She s-said it right. D-didn't call me c-crazy or...or r-retarded." Frank stood in front of the cabin. "Y-you're a good g-girl."  


"Aww, thanks!" she responded. "And you're a very pretty boy! Now, what I was gonna tell you..." She redirected her attention to me. "...is that you have to be very careful and be sure you have him securely held and watched. The Zoo has fences in front of the cages for better safety, but they're not too tall and kids are rather skillful when it comes to climbing or sneaking into places."  


"Don't worry, what you just saw won't happen again," I told her.  


"Ok, then. Sorry, I have to tell you this because if something happened, the zoo's staff wouldn't acknowledge any responsibility."  


"I know you're just doing your job, no need to apologize."  


"Have a good day!" She smiled.  


We finally walked in, Frankie dropping Ray's hand to take mine, his other one still on Bob's. 

Ray changed side and came to walk beside me. "Maybe he's still a little angry at me," he whispered.  


"Nah, I don't think so. It's just that he's grown very fond of Bob 'cause he's like a big kid too, you know?"  


"Yeah, I've noticed that. Hey Gee, have you called that guy Grace gave you the number of?"  


"Mmm...no. I'm a coward, haven't had the guts to. My detective self needed some days off," I said. My notebook had been resting next to the phone for two days, so I wouldn't forget; but so far I had never felt like it was the right time.  


"I can understand that, it's been all very weird and...dense," Ray supported my case.  


"Wh-what's dense?" Frankie demanded to know.  


"Himself, of course!" Bob spoke to Frankie secretively, though loud enough so we would hear it.  


"Got a problem, blondie?" Ray faced Bob, his hands on his hips making his marked biceps very visible.  


"I mean...that your _afro_ is extremely dense, you didn't let me finish!" Bob mended his error.  


"Chicken," Ray labeled him.  


"Ch-chickens? Where?" Frank got into the conversation once again, bringing up general laughter.  


"Bob's the only one here, Frankie. There ain't chickens in the Zoo. Wanna see the monkeys first, then?" Ray propounded.  


"Y-yay!"  


We got to the monkeys' cage and Frank started to jump up and down, tugging at our hands. I had never liked monkeys, but kept the comment to myself.  


"L-lemme go!"  


"We can't let you go, you have to stay here behind the fence," I explained.  


"I w-will. But l-let go of m-my hand!"  


"Ok, I'll trust you."  


"Are you sure?" Bob questioned. 

I nodded, freeing Frank's hand but holding him by his belt instead. He instantly climbed to the middle of the fence. Only his legs, up to his knees, rested against the horizontal bar. He stretched out with both arms, trying to reach the cage.  


"Frankie...no, you're just gonna fall," I warned.  


"N-no I won't, l-lemme."  


"Frankie you..." before I could finish, I saw his upper body move forward as his feet were in the air. Thankfully, Ray's reflexes were enviable good. He got a handle of Frank's shirt and we both pulled him back just in time.

"Hand," Bob simply said to Frank, acting like an adult for once.  


"Yes, you lost your opportunity," I stated.  


"N-nooo pleease! I'll b-be good!" he pleaded. As much as he usually convinced me when he did that, I knew that there were some promises he just _couldn't_ keep. It wasn't even his fault.  


"Frankie..."  


"Let's do something, at least for a while." Bob crouched in front of Frank. "Get on, is it better?"  


"Yep, b-better!" He got on Bob's back and we continued with our visit.  


"Ray's right, boy. You're getting heavy, I might need some unguent for my back tomorrow. Ouch, don't kick, it's a joke!"

It would be a hard, long day I could tell; but it'd be worth it.  


	36. Chapter 36

_I'll give you all I got to give  
if you say you love me too.  
I may not have a lot to give,  
but what I got I'll give to you.  
I don't care too much for money,  
money can't buy me love._

On our next Zoo stop, we headed for the tigers. It was a huge, fenced area with lots of vegetation and even a fake lake, trying to recreate their natural habitat. Three adult tigers, a young one and several cubs were slugging under the sun.  


"L-look...wow," Frankie exclaimed. I had problems deciding whether I should stare at those magnificent animals or Frank's ecstatic face. He was in a trance, eyes wide open as if blinking could be a crime because it would make him miss important seconds. For the first time he was seeing in the flesh those animals he had always admired through books.  


"Beautiful, aren't they?" I asked.  


"V-very..."  


"I guessed you'd like to have some reminders of this day and brought this." Ray retrieved a digital camera from inside his backpack and offered it to Frankie. "I'll teach you so you can take pictures yourself."  


"Are you sure, Ray?" I stopped his hand.  


"Yeah, why?"  


"He might drop it..." I signaled Frank's hands that were laced together over Bob's chest. They were shaky, as usual. I hated having to make those warnings, but I thought it necessary. 

Ray sighed, thinking for a moment. "Shit, I should have thought of it before speaking. If it was mine I'd take the risk, but it's my brother's." He seemed to feel guilty, while Frankie was looking at him disappointed. However, the boy didn't complain, sadly used to people not trusting fragile objects in his hands.  


"It's ok, Ray, Frankie understands."

"I know what we'll do," Ray spoke to Frank again. "I'll hold the camera here, in front of you. You look at the screen. What you see, is what will be in the pic, right?"  


"R-right!"  


"So, you'll guide my hands with yours until you like what you're seeing. When you're satisfied, say 'now' and I'll take the pic. Ok?"  


"L-like this?" Frankie made Ray move the camera to the right.  


"Yep, just tell me when."  


"L-let's see...t-tigers look very s-small here! Oh! Th-the babies! I w-want the babies w-with their mom! Th-this, now!"  


Ray clicked the button and then showed Frankie the photo. "Do you like it? It was a very good choice."  


"Y-yes! It's c-cute!" Frank squealed watching the little screen.  


"When I get home I'll print the pics for you, so you can have them bigger," Ray promised.  


"Yay! C-can we take m-more?"  


"Of course."  


"Oh, you two are a great photographing duo!" I commented. It was a real good picture, even well centered.  


"They are! Later we should take some pics of Frankie near the animals, don't you think, Gerard?" Bob suggested.  


"That's a good idea." I nodded, and Frank grinned wider.  


We visited lions, hippopotamuses, zebras, gorillas, and all kinds of birds. Ray and Frankie managed to get fantastic pictures of them all. What's more, they were exceptionally lucky to have a peacock display his tail for them. That didn't happen too often, those animals could be vain greedy fuckers and leave you waiting for hours.

At one point, noticing Bob's painful expression, I told him to rest for a while and I carried Frank on my back instead. Of course he could walk, but every time we let him do so, he would complain about our restrictions and try to liberate himself from us. Using us as his personal horses appeared to amuse him enough to forgive the lack of freedom.

When we got to the giraffes' sector, one of those incredibly tall animals stretched out its long neck, its head getting pretty close to mine and Frank's face. The boy emitted a short shriek and hid against my back.  


"It won't eat you, babe!" I laughed. "I think it wants you to feed it."  


"Y-yeah?"  


Ray pulled out a handful of grass from beside the fence. "I agree. Here you go, show it this."  

Frank grabbed it and offered it to the giraffe, extending his arm up as far as he could. I wasn't able to see his face, but I imagined he was still scared. The giraffe tested the situation first, sniffing Frank's hand and what it held. Finally, it separated its lips and slowly made the plant disappear, seemingly sucking it in.  


"W-wow..." he muttered again, releasing the air he had been keeping in. 

Very proud of himself, Ray showed me the pic he'd gotten of that moment. Frank's half panicked face in it was priceless.  


"That's so good!"  


"G-gee...g-giraffes make any n-noise? L-like dogs or...or l-lions or m-monkeys?" Frank questioned.  


"I don't know, never heard them."  


"Y-you?" he asked Ray and Bob. Both boys shook their heads.  


"Gu-guess they're m-mute, then. Y-you think the o-other animals make f-fun of them?"  


"I don't think so. Animals are not as mean as some people, I'm sure they accept giraffes the way they are," I told him, relating that to human beings more than I had intended. I suspected that Frank had unconsciously done the same.  


He took my words as a total confirmation. "Th-that's cool."    


******

"Frankie...you'll have to walk for a while. My back's hurting and Ray can't carry you and take pics at the same time." I flexed my knees so he could get off.  


"I...I'm _too_ h-heavy?"  


"No, love, you're not _too_ heavy. Just as heavy as a grown up boy can be." I took his hand firmly.  


"Ah." He didn't walk at first, pouting like a stubborn little kid.  


"Baby? Don't you like walking hand in hand with your boyfriend?" I tickled his armpit playfully. 

He giggled and looked up, catching my mouth in a quick kiss. I brought him closer and paid him back with a longer one. For once, I didn't bother to check if someone was watching us.  


"L-let's go see m-more animals" He tugged at my arm, practically running and dragging me behind.  


"Ok, but slower!"  


"S-see? You're o-old!" He laughed.  


"Have I said today how much I love this kid?" Bob chuckled. "Seriously, he's like my idol!"  


"Really funny, Bob... _really_ funny." I punched his arm.

******  


"W-wanna pee," Frank declared a couple of animals later.  


"Ok...let's search for the bathrooms, then." I looked around for signs. Soon, we saw some green arrows everywhere pointing towards the diverse facilities of the zoo.

The boys' bathroom presented many cubicles, but the main area wasn't too big. Embedded into the left wall were the urinals, and on the opposite one laid three sinks, a small marbled looking surface and a mirror.  


There were a lot of people there. Adults talking loudly while their kids emptied their soda saturated bladders, and children commenting about everything they'd seen or screaming and laughing as if they were at a playground. An inexpert looking parent was struggling to change his little baby's diaper over the sink counter. The diminutive infant wouldn't stop crying his lungs out and kicking his chubby legs.  


Frankie glanced towards the urinals -where a young man was doing his thing- and flinched.  


"You don't have to use those. Come on, we'll look for the cleanest toilet," I whispered in his ear. He didn't move. Instead he looked at the floor, covering his ears with his hands. "Frankie, are you ok?"  


"T-tell them to sh-shut up," he murmured. This place was too packed and noisy for him.  


I hugged him. "I can't do that...they're mostly kids, and a baby. Just go pee and we'll leave quickly."   


"T-tell them to sh-shut the fuck up," he repeated louder, slightly trembling. A couple of boys turned to us curiously.  


"Frankie calm down, everything's okay, you don't have to be scared," I tried again. He was breathing more rapidly.  


"I C-CAN'T CALM D-DOWN. T-TOO MUCH N-NOISE, I D-DON'T LIKE IT, M-MAKE IT S-STOP GEE, MAKE IT S-STOP!" he screamed and hit my chest with his fists. Now everybody had stopped their current activities to behold the show. I wasn't embarrassed at all, I could never feel ashamed of Frankie; I just hated people staring at him like he was a freak. He noticed their eyes on him and hated it too. "D-DON'T LOOK AT M-ME, ASSHOLES. SH-SHUT UP!"  


"Shhh...it's ok, we'll go out now, come with me." I throw my arm around his shoulders, guiding him to the door.  


"Th-they won't sh-shut up. Th-they won't. N-no. T-too much noise, G-gee...too m-much," he kept on babbling.  


"I know, baby, I know. We're leaving." I kissed his head. "Sorry..." I said to no one in particular before stepping out with Frankie. Ray and Bob looked worried.  


"What happened? We heard Frank screaming and were about to enter," Bob asked.  


"He...got scared because there were too many people in there, and they were all talking and screaming and a baby was crying..." I related. 

Grace had told me that Frankie was never able to endure loud noises -whether it was voices, music, or the TV- unless he was the one making them. He would run and isolate himself in a quiet room whenever other patients started screaming. Also, the only places where he'd accept to be surrounded by more than five people close to him were the classroom -when he used to attend- and the dining room. He explained to Grace that it was okay in those cases because the kids were sitting and in order. He didn't like it when it was a mess of people. Grace believed -and I agreed- that it could have to do with past experiences; maybe even from the short period of time when he lived with his mother. She must have screamed at him a lot, or maybe many people used to visit their house and they'd listen to loud music. Kids with Frank's problems were very sensitive and more likely to get scared in a stressful environment.  


"Damn, never thought a bathroom could be so noisy!" Ray expressed surprised.  


"It w-was! S-still have to p-pee." Frankie crossed his legs tight, looking desperate.  


"Let's see..." I led him behind that same structure. There was a narrow corridor in between it and the wall surrounding the zoo. "You can pee here, no one will see you."  


"K-kay. Y-you can s-stay 'cause you're m-my boyfriend, I d-don't mind."  


"Ok," I responded, only staying to make sure he wouldn't run away after that. 

Because of wanting to respect Frankie and give him some privacy, I was too slow. When I heard him zip up his pants and before I could snatch his hand back, he started to run. I had never been a runner, so it could be hard to catch up with him even if he wasn't that fast. I screamed for Bob and Ray to help me, but Frankie was already way ahead.  


We chased after him, panting like dogs, until he stopped in front of a cage we hadn't visited yet: the elephants'. Several kids were standing in front of it, jumping and screaming to try and get the huge animal's attention. Frank froze, looking at the kids and then at the elephant with terror in his eyes. The elephant raised his trunk and walked towards the fence. Frankie walked backwards and then turned on his heels, running to us as soon as he saw us. He held my torso trembling from head to toes.  


"It...it's g-gonna escape n-now. Y-yes...we h-have to l-leave, please..."  


"No, Frankie, it _can't_ escape..." I caressed his hair.  


"Y-yes it can! Th-the children are m-making it an-angry and it...it w-will escape and c-crush us all! Y-yes," he insisted. 

I had never figured out where that fear of his came from. Neither had Grace. Frank wasn't scared of stepping into moving traffic, climbing things or playing with sharp objects. He didn't fear wild felines and would get into their cages if allowed. He would try to pet every dog he found on the street without ever considering one could bite him. However, he was terrified of being crushed to death by animals that you would never find in your everyday life. Animals that you would only see there, in the zoo, confined to their poor simulacrum of a jungle.  


"The elephant's not angry, it's used to seeing kids. It's just greeting them with its trunk, see?" Ray helped.  


"N-no it's not! An-angry!"  


"You know how we told you that you weren't really heavy?" Bob intervened. "Well, elephants _are_ heavy. Very _very_ heavy. They can't jump fences. They're huge, heavy bastards!"  


"Th-there are b-birds, they'll h-help it."  


"Birds can't lift an elephant, Frankie. Come on, let's get closer so you can see it's harmless." I tried to make him, but he was rooted to his place. I walked the same, obliging him to move and overcome his fear.  


"Gerard, are you sure you should force him?" Ray inquired.  


"I don't know...I just want to make him see that there's no reason to be afraid of elephants."  


"N-NO! L-LEMME! IT'S G-GONNA ESCAPE AND C-CRUSH US FIRST! P-PLEASE, NO!" he shouted desperate, causing the caretaker to come see what was wrong.  


"Th-the elephant is g-gonna escape and c-crush us all! Ch-children screaming m-make it ner-vous!" Frankie told him. 

The man smiled to me sympathetically, then spoke to Frank. "I know they're huge and you're small, which can be pretty scary. But I can assure you, that big boy wouldn't hurt anyone. He's lovely as a dog! And he can't leave his cage, anyway."  


"Frankie says the birds can help him..." I added, hoping the man would dissipate all of his doubts.  


"Not even all of our biggest birds could lift Billy one inch off the ground!"  


"S-sure?"  


"Sure."  


"H-his name's B-Billy?"  


"Yes. Follow me."  


The caretaker guided us to a farthest side of the fence, out of the people's sight, where he opened a small section of it with a key and let us in. We were now in between the safety barrier and the actual big fenced area. The man entered a small building to the side and came back with a red purplish fruit, probably a large plum. He gave it to Frankie.  


"Would any of you help the boy up so he can get closer to Billy? I'd do it myself, but he doesn't know me and I don't want to scare him."  


"You're the tallest, Ray!" Bob pointed at my curled friend, hinting that he should compensate the fact that he hadn't carried Frank yet. Ray didn't object and I helped my boyfriend get as far up his back as possible.  


"Wh-what if I m-make Billy mad?"  


"You won't, Billy loves visitors," the man answered. "Now offer the fruit to him, he'll grab it with his trunk."  


"K-kay..." Frank did as he was told, as I took the camera out Ray's pocket to catch the moment. 

Billy gently accepted the plum and brought it to his mouth. After that, he extended his trunk again, reaching out for Frankie.  


"Wh-what's he d-doing now?"  


"Wait and see." The man smiled. 

Billy's trunk first rested on top of Frank's head, then slid down along his hair. Lastly, the end with the opening touched Frankie's cheek -or better said half his face- as if giving him a kiss. 

He shuddered, giggling. "Aww th-thanks, Billy! Y-you're a g-good boy. N-now I know you w-won't crush us."  


Ray put him down. " _No_ elephant will crush us, Frankie."   


"Y-you don't know all el-elephants! N-no one does, not e-even him!" He pointed to the elephant carer.  


"No, but I know a lot _about_ them, and they don't go around crushing people, trust me," the man ensured.  


"S-still not sure. B-but Billy's cute, I l-like him very m-much. B-bye, Billy!" Frank blew the elephant a kiss, and I nearly jumped on him to eat him. He could be _overwhelmingly_ sweet sometimes. 

Frankie had maybe not completely conquered his fear, yet he had faced it which was an important step.  


Feeling hungry, we went for some burgers. It was the speediest meal of our lives, since Frankie finished his in a minute and rushed us to do the same, not wanting to waste any second. He said that we could eat at home or anywhere, while it was only _there_ that we were able to see so many animals. He was right after all, my wise little man. Frank wasn't less intelligent than anyone; he just had a different, simpler, more practical intelligence.

After roaming around the whole zoo, making sure that we hadn't deprived a single animal of our visit, we decided to snap ourselves. We tried telling Frankie to stand alone in front of the cages, but he insisted on climbing the barriers to get closer; so we ended up taking turns to pose with him.  
I had always hated pictures as much as I hated to look at myself in the mirror. This time, though, I was excited to see us together. _Our first photographs together._  


I refused to look at them in the camera. I'd wait to see them bigger, to verify if the happiness I was feeling at the moment could be seen on my face, if it reflected in my eyes. I would choose the best ones to frame and this day would live forever in them. I wouldn't feel bad about myself, because I knew that I looked better when with Frank.  


I photographed Bob, Ray and Frankie playing around and being silly, laughter making it hard for me to hold the camera still. When they began to imitate the animals I had to get them on video too, so we'd be able to laugh at the noises later.

Before leaving, we went to the Shop of Souvenirs. The plushies were so damn adorable that none of us could resist. Bob bought a camel which Frank said looked like him with beard. Ray, after hearing many monkey jokes, chose a little one and announced that he would adopt it as a brother. I settled upon a tiger and Bob call me too predictable, because almost everybody bought tigers. I didn't care, I liked my tiger. Since Frankie was the guest of honor, we allowed him to pick two plushies. A giraffe and an elephant were his choices, and we all smiled to each other without saying a word.

******  


Having driven for a while, I found it strange that I couldn't hear anything coming from the back seat. I adjusted the mirror to be able to see, and what I witnessed made me literally squee. The three boys had fallen asleep. Ray against the car's door, Bob drooling over Ray's shoulder, and Frankie lying down on Bob's lap. An exciting, active day ending with the calmest, most peaceful image.  


I parked on a side of the road. I knew it wasn't permitted to do so, but it'd only be for a few seconds; just the time it took me to turn the camera on and capture that moment forever. _A perfect Kodak moment._

Even though Frankie woke up when we got home, that didn't last. After talking like a machine about everything we had seen and asking nearly one hundred times when Ray would bring us the pics, he passed out on the couch. Puppy was curled in between his arms. I adjusted a cushion under Frank's head and took off his glasses so he'd be more comfortable. I sat down beside him and soon fell asleep too, smiling to myself while I remembered his happy face. It wasn't only about having seen all the animals that he loved so much. It was also the fact that he wasn't left out of outings anymore.  


Honestly, he _was_ difficult to control and rather unruly and adventuresome; yet not much more than any other kid. He hadn't done anything as bad as to make me think that he couldn't be taken to a similar place again. Sure, he had his issues; but it wasn't such a problem if you knew him well and were practiced at managing certain situations. I still couldn't understand why those people at the institution, who were supposed to be a lot more experienced than I, would always make Frank stay.  


Like it'd usually happen when I knew I couldn't sleep much, I woke up after no more than two hours. Stretching, I looked around thinking of what I should do first. I had already cleaned the mess Puppy made -having been home alone for so many hours. Then I saw my folded notebook next to the phone, showing that judge's number.  


"Why not? Come on, Gerard, don't be a coward!" I encouraged myself. Not giving me time to doubt, I picked up the handset and clicked the numbers. 

A young female voice answered. "Hello?"  


"Hello...could I speak to Alexander Hawkins?"  


"Wait a minute," she said coldly, returning after a while. "He asks who it is that wants to speak to him."  


"He doesn't know me, but tell him that Grace Neil gave me his number."  


"Ok..." she sighed. Again I had to wait, feeling pointlessly nervous. "Hello? He told me if you could call again in twenty minutes?"  


"Of course! Alright then, thanks!" I answered.  


"Bye." She hung up. I imagined that was Hawkins' house's phone number, and the girl was maybe his daughter. She didn't seem to enjoy doing secretary work.  


I knew my nerves wouldn't let me do anything besides biting my nails and shaking my legs during those twenty minutes that I had to wait. I turned the TV on, keeping the volume low not to wake up Frankie. It wasn't of any help; going through all the existing channels at least five times only made me more anxious. 

I spent the remaining minutes sauntering the room and glaring at my watch. When it finally signaled that it was, indeed, twenty minutes later, I practically jumped to the phone. However, when I was about to call, I felt a pair of arms holding me from behind and a pair of lips kissing behind my ear.  


"Hey, pretty babe!" I turned to kiss him. He stared at me with sleepy eyes, his shin on my shoulder. "I just have to make a call and then I'll be all yours, ok?"  


"K-kay."  


I hadn't even found the redial button -nerves blurring my vision and screwing up my pulse- when Frankie grabbed my face, kissed my cheek and then the side of my mouth.  


"L-love you," he whispered seductively.  


"I love you too, Frankie, a lot. But I _really_ need to make this call, just a minute..."  


"K-kay, meanie!" He sat up quietly, his eyes still fixed on me. 

Again I turned my attention to the phone and pressed the button, but Frankie suddenly climbed on my lap, making me drop the handset to the floor.  


"Frankie...ENOUGH! I told you to please wait, I'm busy! We have the whole night, so why the rush? I love you, but you have to understand when I'm being serious!" I spat annoyed, guilt hitting me like a huge piano on my head as soon as I saw his face. He withdrew from me to the opposite side of the couch and his eyes filled with tears.

I truly hated myself in those situations, when I let my nerves dominate me and I forgot who I was talking to. Of course he didn't mean to disobey, even less bother me. He was only showing his love for me and I had pushed him away like the worst asshole.  


"S-sorry. N-now you're an-angry and don't l-love me," he murmured sadly.  


" _I_ am the one who's sorry, Frankie, I was a jerk. Of course I love you." I reached out for his hand but he didn't take mine. I heard a voice coming from the receiver and I picked it up.  


"Hello?" a man asked.  


"Oh yes, sorry...I dropped the phone, just a minute!" I explained. 

I stared at Frank imploringly. "Please?" I mouthed, beckoning for him to get closer. When I saw him move, wiping away his tears, I patted my lap. He got the sign and rested his head on it.  


"I'm here now. Sorry again, I just had a little...problem. Mister Hawkins?" I spoke on the phone as I twirled Frankie's hair with my fingers.  


"Yes, I am. And don't worry, who am I speaking to?"  


"I'm Gerard Way. Do you remember a woman called Grace Neil?" I asked, a little more relaxed hearing Alexander's friendly voice.  


"I do, my cousin contacted us."  


"She wanted to find out about Alice Caravaggio and Frank Iero..." I continued, demonstrating my knowledge on the subject. Upon hearing his name, Frankie looked up at me. With my index finger on my lips I told him to be silent.  


"Aha. I consulted some colleagues and got some information about the woman, but I didn't have Grace's number and she didn't call me again."  


"Oh, I know. She got in trouble at work due to using the phone for personal matters. She lives there and doesn't have a cellphone at the moment." I didn't give out many details. I couldn't tell him Grace had been nearly menaced if I expected the guy to speak. "That's why she told me to call you now. What could you find out?"  


"Well...this woman, Alice Caravaggio, was in a very good financial situation. She died about two years ago and had written a legal testament, a will, establishing the destination for her money and possessions."  


"Oh..." was all I managed to voice, many things already making sense in my head. All of the ideas I came up with were baleful. "Do you know anything else about that will?"  


"She bequeathed her last house to her daughter. Any other properties had to be sold and the money kept in the bank with the rest. All that she left to her grandson, Frank Iero. However, it was stated that this relative is mentally ill. For that reason he can't dispose of the money, even after turning the legal age."  


"And what did she decide then?" I interrupted, interested but confused. Frankie was still giving me that same questioning look.  


"She designated a procurator who would make sure that the institution where her grandson was received the payment every month, for life, plus some more money for extra needs or spendings."  


"But...why did they stop receiving it after two years of her death?" I asked.  


"I don't know about that, I'd have to investigate further and locate the procurator. Since this woman Grace never called again, I didn't venture more into it."  


"I understand. Could you try now? It's really important," I requested. It was a great chance to get to the truth. I had an hypothesis, but it wouldn't be of any use if I couldn't prove it.  


"I'll try, I can't promise anything. Would you give me your number? It's a lot easier when I can contact people."  


"Of course." I gave him both the numbers of my house and my cellphone. Then Alexander excused himself politely, saying he had things to do.

I was left overburdened, feeling like my brain was so swollen that it didn't fit inside my skull. Too much information, too many words. Specially one word bothering me; the one that would always complicate things, the one that could drive some people to do the unthinkable: _money_.  
When money was involved, anything was possible.

"G-gee...can I k-kiss you now?" Frank's soft voice chased my bitterness away.  


"Of course you can, my love. Come here." I sat him on my lap, closed my eyes and kissed him. Not thinking, only feeling. His lips on mine, his skin under my fingers as I caressed his face. No amount of money could ever replace that. What we had was invaluable.  


_Money, so they say,  
is the root of all evil today._


	37. Chapter 37

_But every time I look at you,  
no matter what I'm going through, it's easy to see.  
And every time I hold you,  
the things I never told you seem to come easily...  
cause you're everything to me._

That Monday morning I left in a hurry. The day at the zoo had left me very tired, and the news I'd gotten through the phone hadn't helped either. It had been hard to fall asleep even if my body was imploring me to do it. 

Ray had felt tempted to stay in bed too. He'd fought the temptation and won, but the battle was hard and long. He arrived later than usual -too late to save me from oversleeping, looking as if the pillow was still stuck to his face. There was no time for talking, so I decided to wait until my return to fill Ray in about what Hawkins had told me.  


Frankie hadn't been awake at the time I left for work, so when I came back in the afternoon he almost threw me to the floor. He and Puppy seemed to have plotted against me. While I was trying to maintain my balance with Frank clinging to me like a koala, the dog painfully bit my calf.

"Uh...hello, love!" I greeted my boyfriend.  


"M-missed you, m-meanie!"  


"Woah! Why am I a meanie?" I asked, not understanding. "And tell Puppy I'm not a bone for him to gnaw on!"  


"Frankie got angry because you weren't home when he woke up, we had a little huff here. He wanted me to take him to see you, but I finally explained things and he understood," Ray said.  


"S-still angry and s-so is Puppy!"  


"You didn't seem angry when we made hamburgers and fries..." Ray laughed.  


"Oh! So _that's_ how you really convinced him. Though...hamburgers again, Ray? Isn't it _too much_ junk food?" I questioned. Ray gave me a funny look. "I know, I sound like my mother but...I think it's enough for this week."  


"S-see that you're m-mean?" Frank punched me.  


"How mean?" I trapped him in between my arms.  


" _V-very_! L-lemme go!"  


"Sure you want me to let you go?" I whispered in his ear, and he shuddered. I loved when he did that.  


"Uhm..."  


"I think someone's anger is evaporating too fast..." Ray sang.  


"Do I let you go? Do I hold you tighter? Choose now!" I kept him in my arms, but spun him so he was facing me. 

He bit his lip, the annoyance far gone. "H-hold me t-tighter but...no, w-wait!" he pushed us apart a little with his hand. "K-kiss me too or...or I w-won't forgive you!"  


"As if you needed to ask him that..." I heard Ray murmur. He was always saying that we were 'over-sugared'.  


"Shh...shut up, Ray! Anyway he's right, Frankie. You didn't need to ask me that. The 'hold you tighter' option _already_ featured a kiss."  


"Y-yeah?"  


"Yep! Like this one." I pulled him closer until our bodies were fully touching and we shared one of those breath taking, slow, long kisses.  


"What about that call last night?" Ray asked once Frankie and I broke apart.  


"I have some news but..." I signaled to Frank with my head. He'd turned the TV on, but appeared to be more interested in our conversation.  


"Oh, leave it to me, I'm always well equipped!" Ray grabbed his backpack and took a small game console out of it. An old Nintendo, together with a legendary Mario cartridge.  


"He _knows_ how to play that?" I inquired.  


"Yes, he does. He didn't tell you?"  


"No, he didn't...that's weird."  


"Oh, f-forgot!" Frank smiled. There were things or situations he would remember every detail of, while he'd totally forget others.  


"I found my old consoles last week and brought them. We tried them all, but Frankie got a little frustrated with the newer ones. The magnificent, old Nintendo was the best option," he commented triumphantly.  


"Y-yeah didn't un-understand the others, th-this one's e-easier. I d-die a lot, an-anyway, but it's f-fun." He nodded. "P-plug it, Ray!"  


"I'm doing it!"  


As soon as it was all plugged in, Frankie got lost among bricks, coins and pipes. The look of concentration on his face was something very amusing to behold, same as the random way in which he'd press all the buttons when he didn't know what to do.  


"Let's go to the kitchen, we don't have much time," Ray suggested. "He loves it, but gets tired of it fast."  


"That's good, at least he won't become addicted to it, don't you think?" I laughed, even though it was sometimes a problem how soon Frank got tired of most activities.

******  


After I told Ray everything, he remained silent, thoughtful. He hadn't liked what he heard. "Gerard...you should stop now. Just live your life and take care of Frankie, forget about his past," he said shortly.  


"What? I can't stop! I _need_ to know why things happened the way they did, why there was so much shit against the poor boy! I want to do it for Frankie."  


"I know Gee but...it's about money. When there's money involved, there's danger. Especially with that mafia-man Frank's mother has on her side," he justified his opinion.  


"I'm not going to _do_ anything, at least for now. I'm just trying to find out, nothing's gonna happen by just asking around. Linda and that asshole must be hiding somewhere far away," I replied.  


"You _can't_ be so sure. See...I know you're a stubborn bastard, and probably nothing I could tell you is going make you change your mind; but please be careful. Don't go too far, you can't fix the past. You're helping make Frankie's present better. That's more important, don't ruin it," he insisted.  


"I'll be careful, I promise. I'm only going to wait for this guy to call me again, that's all."  


"Gerard..." Ray sighed, but said nothing else.  


"G-gee, Ray! I...I'm b-bored already, come h-here?" Frankie called us. I was glad to end that conversation. Even if I knew that there could be some danger, I felt like I _had_ to know more.  


"You abandoned Mario?" I sat with him.  


"Y-yeah, wanna d-do another th-thing."  


"I'm gonna go take a shower now, maybe you'll play a little longer if Ray plays with you? It's more fun that way..."  


"Oh about that, I can't stay until you shower today, Gee. My dad just texted and he needs me now. I'm sure Frankie will behave in the meantime, right boy?" Ray ruffled his hair. The random thought of how long Frank's hair was crossed my mind. I loved it, but he rarely accepted to brush it so it was a real mess.  


"Y-yes, I'll be g-good. B-but...Gee takes t-too much time, he sh-should hurry up."  


"I will, I will!" I protested. Now Frankie was the one sounding like my mother.

When Ray left, I went for clean clothes and got into the bathroom. Frankie was watching some cartoons and I knew I'd have to be quick. He did behave a lot better than before, but I still didn't trust him alone for too long. It was better to prevent accidents when possible.

I turned on the water -barely warm- and got under the shower. I was soaking my hair when I heard the door open. Poking my head from one side of the curtain I saw Frankie standing there, clean clothes folded against his chest.  


"Do you need something, Frankie?" I asked.  


"C-can I shower w-with you? P-Please?"  


"Uh..." I had no excuse. There was no reason to tell him 'no', especially after how he had asked for it. It might even be something good, it could help us feel more comfortable around each other. On top of that, we'd save time and I'd have one less problem -or two: no more asking Ray to stay while I showered, and no more worrying about Frankie getting hurt in the bathroom by himself.  


"Ok, come in."  


"I'm d-dressed, silly. W-wait!" Frank laughed. 

He left what he was holding over the toilet together with his glasses, and quickly took off his clothes. As he walked towards the bathtub, my eyes didn't wait for permission. He was so pretty, so...delicate. Angelical face, slender shoulders and chest, slightly rounded belly and feminine hips. He was mostly hairless except for the thin trail of hair that started under his deep belly button and ended _there_ , where I diverted my glance, looking at his legs instead. They were short, but well proportioned. Small feet, just like him. Small, beautiful, and naked in front of me.  


Looking into his eyes, I opened the curtain and offered him my hand. He didn't move at first, and I could sense that he was watching me too. I felt so weird, even more naked than I was, my old insecurities coming back all together. Then he smiled and took my hand, stepping into the shower with me. Everything was alright again.

We froze under the falling water, our eyes locked until Frank's hair got wet and fell on his face, interrupting his view. He raised both hands and ran them through his locks, fixing them back. His perfect features became visible, adorned and highlighted by the cascading drops. Hazel orbs spying me through dripping eyelashes, eyes as perfect to me as everything that surrounded them. Frankie knew that and never avoided my look; he always returned it, unashamed.  


He tiptoed and kissed my nose, grinning like a little child. Next he grabbed my face and kissed my lips. I placed my hands on his hips, loving the sensation yet trying to stay cool. Instead of bringing him closer, I kept my arms semi extended so our bodies would not meet. It was the first time we were totally naked together, and I didn't think it convenient. I didn't want a nice moment to turn awkward.  


After a tender, moist kiss, things were completely normal. We washed ourselves while singing some random tunes, having fun and laughing. I shampooed his hair, he lathered my back. I stepped aside every time Frankie went under the shower to flush the soap and shampoo away, avoiding accidental grazes.  


When we were done, I left the bathtub first and helped him out; throwing the big, white towel over his shoulders. Then I took a smaller one and dried his hair. He could perfectly do it himself, but I needed to coddle my boyfriend. He giggled and seemed extremely happy, and I knew that I wanted it to be like this forever.  


******  


All along the week we shared the shower. When I told Ray that he wouldn't need to stay any longer once I was home, he didn't like the reason much. He opined that I was putting myself in a very compromising situation, that I'd have to be twice as strong. I had, so far. There had been some days when Frank and I explored each other a little more, since that was still something new for us; the feeling of the other's skin under our fingers and how different it tasted. It was sensual, inviting. Yet my infallible self control had persisted. I didn't know how I'd succeeded at having such dominion over my own body. It wasn't such a struggle anymore, it didn't mean suffering to me. It didn't matter how far we'd get, I always enjoyed our intimate moments and it always felt enough in the end.  


Frankie, on the other hand, never tried to control his feelings or sensations. He was spontaneous. He was discovering a new world, feeling things he had never felt before and couldn't even fully understand. He didn't attempt to, he just followed his instincts. Other times he was oblivious to his body reactions. It had happened a couple of times that week, and I'd pretended not to see while we kept playing around with shampoo bubbles.

Before this change in our routine, Frank would often complain about showering. He wouldn't do it everyday because I didn't want to force him. Needless to say, he never refused to shower again.  


*******

Ray had printed out a lot of the pictures from our day at the zoo. When Frank saw them, his happiness was so immense that it didn't fit into his small body. He kept jumping, shrieking, clapping hands and laughing. He'd ran for transparent tape and adhered some of the photos to the closet door. I kept one that showed Frank and me together and another one with the four of us -which we had asked someone to take. I bought some fancy, colored frames to put them in display over a shelf, for everybody to see as soon as they entered the house.  


I'd had no news from Hawkins and was about to agree with Ray; it might be better if the guy didn't call me again. Maybe I should take it as a sign and forget about it all. Curiosity, as well as that need for justice, were still inside of me; but if Alexander didn't call I would not insist.

It was Saturday and for the first time -apart from when Frank and I had stopped there for a night- we were going to visit my mother's house. Of course, Mikey and Alicia would be present too.  


We arrived and Frankie ran to the door, ringing the bell before I could even get out of the car. Once I caught up with him, I saw Alicia hug him so tightly that Frank's feet were in the air.  


"Hey babe, you're getting heavier!" she told him, treating him like a baby as usual. The funny thing was that Frankie _liked_ to be treated that way. Or at least he liked certain people doing it.  


I flinched. "Ouch, Al...you shouldn't have said that."   


"Wh-why you're all s-so mean? I...I'm n-not fat!" Frank protested.  


"Oh...no, Frankie! I didn't mean that! Of course you're not. You were a little too thin before, now you're more...adorable and cuddly...and pinchable!" She kissed his cheek.  


"R-really?"  


"Really really! And boy, you look prettier every time I see you. Gerard takes good care of you, uh?"  


"Y-yes! He l-loves me lots. I l-love him a lot t-too. Y-yeah. L-like my g-glasses?" He stood in front of her with the biggest smile. "Y-you hadn't seen th-them!"  


"They're lovely! Don't tell Mikey, but your glasses are so much cooler than his!"  


"L-let's not t-tell him, yeah...he w-would get angry and...and he d-doesn't like me m-much."  


"Mikey _does_ like you, he's just a little grumpy." My mom appeared, attacking Frank's cheek with motherly kisses.  


"H-hiii! B-brought you this." Frankie handed her one of our photographs. He'd refused to buy a frame. With a little help from me, he had made his own out of pink colored cardboard and drawn flowers all around it. 

My mother stared at the handmade gift in silence. Her eyes watered as a meaningful smile formed on her lips.  


"G-gee helped me c-cut it 'cause I can't use s-scissors, but I g-glued it and m-made all the d-drawings," Frank explained thrilled. When he saw that my mom had tears in her eyes, he worried. "D-donna...you d-don't like it? W-want me to m-make it again?"  


"No, Frankie! It's perfect, I _love_ it!" she answered, sitting down and pulling Frank on her lap.  


"Th-then why you c-crying?" he ran a shaky finger under my mother's eye.  


"Because...I'm a silly old woman who cries when she's too happy!" She studied the frame again. 

"You both look so pretty here. I'm sorry that I was too busy this week and we couldn't talk about the zoo! Did you enjoy it?"  


"Oh, true! I want to hear about it too!" Alicia jumped into the scene.  


"Be prepared, you're in for a long report!" I laughed. Frankie loved having an audience and something interesting to tell them. It took him some time due to his speech impediment, but he was enthusiastic and it was pleasant to hear him.  


"Th-the Zoo w-was so so so g-good! L-lemme tell you all!"

He related every detail about that day to them; everything we did, everything he felt. He moved his hands a lot while talking and if you looked at his face, he seemed to be reliving it all.  


At one point of his zoo review, Mikey entered the room. Frankie didn't see him and my brother didn't want to interrupt him, so he just stood where he was. Once in a while I'd take my eyes off Frankie to set them on Mikey, who was listening to him with his lips curved into a sincere smile; really _paying attention_ to what Frank was saying. He suddenly saw me watching him and looked down. I waited for him to look back up and I arched my eyebrows, getting a giggle as response. _Brotherly mute language._  


Frank finished his story and turned to Mikey, only then realising he was there.  


"Hello, kiddo! You're good at relating outings!" Mikey petted his hair.  


"H-hello, Mikey." he replied timidly, looking at his own hands.  


"What's wrong, Frankie?" My brother tried to grab Frank's chin, but the boy eluded him.  


"Why don't you want to look at Mikey, baby? I told you, he does like you." My mom talked to him who was still on her lap.  


He shook his head. "M-mikey doesn't like m-me looking at h-him."   


"Oh...I'm sorry, Frankie...for real. I know I was a little too moody last time you saw me, but it's fine. Of course you can look at me." Mikey knelt in front of them and waited until Frank raised his eyes. "That's better. Friends? Well, you're also like...my brother in law now, since you're my bro's boyfriend..."  


"Y-YES, FRIENDS AND B-BROTHERS IN...WH-WHATEVER!" Frank screamed and kissed Mikey's cheek, who got up to speak in my ear.  


"I still kinda think you're a crazy, mindless fucker, but the boy's not to blame."  


"If you say so..." I chuckled. I knew he wasn't angry, and I was sure that he trusted me. He just wouldn't admit that he worried about Frankie, even if it was obvious. Mikey _loved_ to play tough.  


******  


We were sitting at the table, waiting for my mother to serve lunch. She had expressed that she felt bad for not having had time to cook a more elaborated meal, but we assured her that it wasn't important. It was about having a good time together after all. The menu was grilled chicken breasts and smashed potatoes and pumpkins. The smell coming from the kitchen told us it'd be delicious.  


Among the regular bread over the table, there was a lonely cheese bun. I had been observing amused how Frankie eyed it, not daring to make a move. Eventually, he wasn't able to resist anymore and reached out for it...at the same time that Mikey did.  


"M-MINE! GIMME!" Frankie shouted at him, both tugging at the bun.  


"No way, saw it first and it's my house, dwarf!"  


"N-NOT A DWARF AND I S-SAW IT FIRST. L-LIKE IT, G-GIMME!"  


"Mikey...please," I said, hoping my glare was enough for him to get the idea.  


"DON'T 'Mikey please' me, that boy can't have everything he wants," he retorted.  


"You eat them almost everyday, come on!"  


"No I don't, mom made them for a neighbor and only left a couple here and I wasn't home," he excused himself childishly, still fighting for the prize.  


"IT...IT'S M-MINE, ASSHOLE! Y-YOU SAID WE...W-WE WERE F-FRIENDS!"  


"Yeah we are, but you must learn that you can't get everything you want, kid!"  


"F-FUCK YOU! M-MINE, PLEASEE!"  


"Mikey, give me that!" Alicia tried to snatch it but they got up from the table, still not releasing the bun.  


My mother entered the dining room. "Can you tell me what's happening here?"   


"M-mikey doesn't w-want to gimme the ch-cheese thingie and...and I s-saw it first!" Frankie accused my brother, while trying to force open his fingers with his free hand.  


"It's _my_ bun, and he's a spoiled brat," Mikey said furious. "AND FUCKING LEAVE MY FINGERS ALONE!"  


"TH-THEN GIMME OR TH-THE LITTLE P-PEOPLE WILL B-BREAK THEM! TH-THEY'RE HERE AND THEY D-DON'T LIKE YOU!"  


"MICHAEL! Can you behave like an adult, please? This is...unbelievable."  


"Donna's right, Mikey...do you realise the way you're acting?" Alicia hit the back of her boyfriend's head.  


" _I_ have to behave like an adult? For your information, I'm only one year older than Frank!"  


" _F-FRANKIE_ , YOU...ID-IDIOT!"  


"You know you're not making sense, Mikey. You understood what I meant, don't play fool with me." Mom was really serious now.  


"Whatever, take it. Happy?" He let go of his prey and Frankie ran back to the table, beaming.  


Mikey sulked like the immature kid he sometimes was. One moment he was bossing me around and saying that I made him feel like the big brother. The next one he could be fighting over any stupid thing like a 5-year old. Annoying, to say the least.  


Frankie was about to bring the bun to his mouth, when he stopped to look at Mikey.  


"Don't mind him, he'll get over it," I whispered to him. 

He nodded, but kept staring. Suddenly, he parted the cheesy bread in two and after studying the halves, he left the slightly bigger one on his plate. "M-Mikey?" he called him.  


"What?" Mikey mumbled.  


"Y-you can h-have this 'cause..'c-cause maybe we s-saw it at the s-same time." Frank offered him the other half. "An-and...Grace said sh-sharing is good," he added blushing, seemingly ashamed. Surely not as much as Mikey.  


"Oh...uh...no...it's ok, Frankie. Sorry for wanting to keep it."  


"T-take it?" Frank insisted.  


"Ok, thank you."  


"F-friends again?"  


"Yes, kiddo, friends again." Mikey smiled showing his teeth and both kids ate their bun in peace.

It was evident that Mikey felt guilty after that, since he kept trying hard to be nice. Food was served and he cut the chicken for Frankie. When Frank started eating, grabbing the fork with both hands, the other boy was dubious.  


"We could help you, you know? You don't need to be doing such weird maneuvers to eat..." Mikey let out.  


"N-NO. I c-can, see?"  


"Ok! Jesus! And _I_ am the moody one!"  


"Don't take it personally, Mikey, he always gets angry whenever we offer to help him. He's a grown boy and likes to eat by himself, which is very understandable," my mother told him.  


"Oh, _now_ he's a grown boy?" Mikey snickered.  


"Don't start again..."  


"I was joking, mom."  


"Sure you were..." Alicia glanced at him.  


"Ouch! Stop hurting me, woman!" he yelled. I wasn't sure of what she'd done to him under the table.  


"Then start acting your age or I'll make you wear diapers, bib and a pacifier...then take pics and post them all over the net," she menaced. Frankie, my mom and I exploded in laughter just imagining that.  


"Ok, Miss maturity." Mikey kissed Alicia's lips and grinned like an idiot at her. I wondered if I had that same silly face when I looked at Frank.  


"Oh b-but...but I w-wanted to see b-baby Mikey!" Frank pouted.  


"Maybe one day...maybe one day!" the girl laughed witch-style.  


"Would you eat before it gets cold, _children_?" Donna asked, hitting the fork against her plate for attention. I bet she felt like a kindergarten teacher.  


******  


A while after lunch, helpful Mikey attacked again. "Hey Frankie, want to do something? I could bring some board game or we could play video games?"  


"L-later," Frankie answered softly. He had his arms crossed over the table and was resting his head on them.  


"Are you still angry at me?"  


"N-no, I'm a l-little sleepy."  


"Oh, come on! You didn't wake up so early today, did you?"  


"D-dunno."  


"No, but he sleeps a lot because of the medication, always passes out after lunch. I think the only day he skipped his nap was when we went to the zoo. He was too excited to think of sleeping." I carried Frankie. "Let's take you to the couch, later we can all play something together."  


"K-kay."  


While Frank was sleeping, I took the chance to tell my mom all about Hawkins. Knowing how Mikey could react, I chose for him not to be present, though it wasn't much better in my mother's case. She told me practically the same as Ray, only crying. I promised that I would stop my investigation if the guy didn't call again, and she begged me to quit even if he did. I could not promise that.

Before we went back to the others, my mother let me know that she would make an appointment for Frankie to have his blood and general health checked in two weeks. We had agreed that it was better to do it at the hospital where she worked, even if it wasn't close to home. She'd make sure Frank had the best attention.

The day ended with a big Mario-party, all of us taking turns to play. It was true that Frankie would never last long alive, but he was a master compared to my mother. She had never ever played before, not even when Mikey and I were little. Seeing her try for the first time was so hilarious that we came up with the idea of having a Mario-meeting at least once a month from then on.

When we were getting ready to leave, I found it weird to see Frankie saying goodbye to Mikey almost as effusively as to my mother or Alicia. However, it was weirder to not see Mikey getting annoyed at that. A good change nevertheless, even if he was still doubtful about me. As Mikey had well put it himself, Frankie was not to blame.

******  


The first thing I saw when we got home, was my cellphone on the floor. I hadn't realised that I didn't have it while at my mom's. I checked for messages and there was only one. I didn't recognize the number until I read it.  


"Sorry to keep you waiting. I think I'll have the information in two days." Hawkins. No way I'd stop now.


	38. Chapter 38

_Feel the paranoia creeping in,  
like a cancer eating at the skin._

The store I worked at wasn't far from home, so I preferred to walk there. It gave me that needed time to completely wake up and also saved me from parking problems. There were mornings when it got too late for me to go by foot, though, and I felt obliged to use my car.

This particular Monday morning I didn't overslept or take longer for breakfast. Neither did I have to wait for Ray to arrive, since he was there promptly. However, when I was gathering my things to leave, Frankie came to me talking about something that had him pretty interested. According to him, there was a climbing plant all over our room's ceiling, and it bore both watermelons and oranges. I tried telling him there was nothing there, that it was just an hallucination; but he didn't buy it. He said I was bringing up excuses to get rid of the poor plant. I explained that a plant like that didn't even exist. Frank replied that it was maybe from Mars. I finally gave up on reasoning with him -since he'd have a comeback for every one of my arguments- and granted him permission to keep the vine if he liked it. He laughed at my remark about not wanting the plant all over me and kissed me happily, running back to the room.

Ray didn't utter a single word, only looked at me reproachingly. Thoughts of what he and my mother had opined about Frank's meds came to mind. I knew what he was thinking, therefore I ignored his hints and turned away. I glanced at the clock and saw that I didn't have much time, yet I decided to walk the same. It always lightened my mood.

******  


As I hurried up -realising that it was later than I'd thought- a feeling of uneasiness hit me. I didn't think much of it at first, attributing it to me being worried about Frankie. After a while, though, I _knew_ there was was something else; I felt observed. I looked towards the street and a big, black car which moved oddly slow caught my attention. The windows were dark, so I couldn't discern any faces.  


I tried to convince myself that it meant nothing. I cursed Ray and my mother under my breath for making me think that I could be in danger. Those people were probably just having problems with their car and weren't able to speed up. There was no reason to be afraid, they _couldn't_ be following me.  


I did my best to shrug it off and stay calm. I attempted to keep a normal pace, but I felt my feet move faster and faster and suddenly, I was running. I thought I heard the black car match my speed, although I didn't dare look back again. I arrived at the store out of breath and as I stood there recovering, I saw the suspicious vehicle pass me by.  


"See, Gerard _Chicken_ Way? You're just paranoid!" I spoke to myself.

When I entered my place of work, Sarah noticed that there was something off about me as soon as she greeted me. She frowned while she kept me at arms length.  


"You look flushed, Gerard. Do you feel fine?" she asked. Of course, to see _me_ with some color on my face wasn't an every-day thing.  


"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that I was late so I had to run here. Frankie was feeling up for a conversation." I smiled, concealing.  


"You know there's no need to push yourself so hard, I understand your circumstances. Go wash your face and drink some water before you start working," she told me with serious motherly concern.  


"Ok, thanks Sarah." I flashed her another smile before heading for the bathroom. I was really lucky to have her as my boss. Even without knowing the truth, she'd given me the support I needed after a difficult morning,

On my way back I couldn't help looking around me all the time. I jumped with every noise of breaks, I flinched whenever a person walked too close to me. I felt like everybody was watching me. I had never experienced something like that before and I didn't like the feeling at all.

I suddenly remembered that Hawkins might be calling me later that day and panicked. I considered unplugging the phone and keeping my cellphone off, but that would be coward and idiotic. I certainly couldn't quit now just because of my stupid paranoia. Not when I was about to discover something important. If whoever was in that car had wanted something with me, they would have acted on it. They hadn't done anything, so I had no real reason to be scared.

I reached our house without encountering any abnormal sighting, yet I wasn't at ease. I had to make sure one last time that there was no strange car or person roaming the neighborhood before opening the door.

I had momentarily forgotten about my little problem at home until I saw Frankie. He and Puppy came running with the same joyful expression on their faces. It was maybe true that dogs ended up resembling their owners. I lifted Puppy with one arm, circling Frank's waist with the other.  


"Hello, furry version of Frankie!" I kissed the dog's head. "And hello to you, original Frankie! How was your day?"  


"H-hi!" his mouth was attached to mine in half the time it would have taken me to _think_ of it. I didn't complain. Instead I allowed those pink, moist lips to cover my dry ones and help me forget all my worries. Tongue met tongue and that continued until a _third_ tongue was felt on the corner of our mouths.  


"P-Puppy! Y-you were _not_ in-invited!" Frankie giggled, taking the dog from me.  


"I think he was just jealous because we were ignoring him," I guessed, checking on Ray. Even though he laughed with us, he was as silent as in the morning. He seemed to be lost in thoughts, slightly worried.

"Y-you know, Gee?" Frankie tapped my shoulder."I as-asked Ray to g-get some or-oranges from the p-plant in our r-room. I...I c-can't do it m-myself 'cause I'm t-too short. R-Ray's tall, he c-can. B-but he said he couldn't at th-that moment and...and l-later when w-we went to the b-bedroom, the p-plant wasn't there an-anymore!"  


"See? I told you that..."  


"It...it's M-martian! I'm s-sure, yes. I...I kn-know that." He nodded expertly. "M-martian plants can c-come and g-go. Y-yeah, it'll be b-back."  


"I didn't know that, sounds interesting. So they can move like us?" I was more marveled than freaked out at the things Frank would come up with. He had probably stopped seeing the famous vine a while after taking his pill, while the effect was stronger.  


"Y-yep! B-but they t-try to not be s-seen when they're m-moving. If...if s-someone's near...they...th-they stick themselves to a wall or s-something. Qu-quiet, like n-normal plants," he explicated.  


"Oh, wow." I heard Ray's voice for the first time. "That's really interesting, Frankie. How do you know all that?"  


"I kn-know...b-because once I h-had a Martian friend and...and he t-told me. H-he had to leave, th-though," Frank answered. Once in a while he remembered some other 'friends' he'd had.  


"A Martian friend? Now _that_ is cool," Ray declared, and Frankie grinned.  


"Now I understand. You could tell me more about Martians, then! I'm sure your friend taught you many things about them." I followed the conversation naturally as I held him in my arms.  


"I w-will. N-now I'm gonna s-see if the plant's b-back!" He let go of the embrace and disappeared.  


"Gee, really..." Ray spoke as soon as we were left alone. "He keeps imagining things...he's added new ones. Even after being told that they're not real, he's not convinced. You could at least _try_ increasing the medication a little and see what happens?"  


"No way, I don't mind his hallucinations. He hasn't had any bad or scary ones in a long time, and the rest are harmless. Why over-medicate him?"  


"It's not _over-medicating_ him, Gerard. It'd be just finding the dose he needs," he corrected me.  


"Same, I think he's fine now. He can perfectly follow a normal conversation most of the time, doesn't hear voices in his head and apart from some limitations he's having a pretty normal life. Enough for me, I can cope with the remaining problems," I spat annoyed.  


"I can too, you know that. But I've been rethinking this and...his hallucinations are not _always_ harmless. What about the time he kicked the wall? He _listens_ to his imaginary friends, does what they say, argues with them..."  


"He'll be fine, Ray," I whispered as Frankie reentered the living room. Ray nodded, defeated by my stubbornness as usual.  


"It...it's th-there again, G-Gee! C-come see?" Frankie didn't wait for me to answer. He grabbed my hand and dragged me behind him.  


"I better get going. Gerard...please think about what we discussed," Ray advised, walking to the door. "See you tomorrow, Frankie!"  


"B-bye Ray!"

We got to the bedroom and Frankie signaled to the ceiling, jumping and smiling. I didn't see the point in telling him once again that there was nothing there. Maybe he'd forget in a few days anyway; it had happened with other things he imagined.  


"Oh, it's really pretty...and large! Are you sure I won't wake up with a branch curled around one leg?" I inquired looking up.  


"N-no, silly! It d-doesn't grow, it's al-always the same, on-only that...th-that if you take the f-fruits, m-more appear. P-plants from Mars are l-like that."  


"Ahh, ok! If it's not going to get any bigger then it can stay."  


"Y-yay! C-come here, you c-can look at it b-better." 

He lied down on the bed and invited me to do the same. Once I did, Frank retook my hand and we stayed like that, looking at the ceiling while he admired the plant. He talked about what beautiful blue flowers it had, how green its leaves were, how big the watermelons, how bright the oranges.  


At one point I didn't see humidity spots and chipped off paint anymore. My eyes stayed open, but I wasn't using them. Frank's words entered my mind creating the images and I saw it: the vine in all its splendor. I beheld the climbing stalks, the leaves, the flowers, the oranges and watermelons dangling. I turned my face to look at him. He sensed my stare and watched me too, and sharing that experience made me feel so close to him that I cried. It had been like magic.  


What if we, the supposed normal people, were the handicapped ones? What if we were too blind to see and called the ones like Frankie crazy just out of jealousy? The thought made sense at that moment.  


"G-gee...you're c-crying. Y-you're sad? S-something hurts? T-tell me?" Frankie questioned, the back of his fingers tracing my face so softly that it tickled. He was concerned.  


"Oh...no, Frankie, I'm not sad or hurting...all the contrary. I feel so happy right now that it makes me cry..."  


"Y-you're weird, G-gerard. Y-yep. B-but don't worry, I l-like you lots the s-same." He giggled and pecked my temple.  


"Thank you for accepting my weirdness, love."  


"W-welcome! Uh...I'm h-hot."  


"You're _very_ hot...besides being cute and pretty and..."  


"N-no, you...d-dumb!" He punched me, chuckling. "M-meant _it's hot h-here._ F-feel all sweaty."  


"Wanna go take a shower?" I proposed, succumbing to the urge to taste his lips.  


"Y-yeah!" He jumped off the bed, not looking up again. He seemed to suddenly forget about the extraterrestrial vine. In a minute he had collected everything he needed and was gone, surely waiting for me in the bathroom.

When I joined him, Frankie was already naked, sitting over the toilet with his knees against his chest. He smiled widely when he saw me, and got up to turn on the shower while I took off my clothes. The boy had learned how to make the water reach the ideal temperature for a summer day, and he enjoyed taking care of that task. As always, he motioned for me to get into the bathtub first, loving when I'd offer my hand to help him in.

We kissed unhurriedly after washing our hair -or better said after _I_ washed both our hair- as the shampoo ran along our backs. We carried on with the routine then, singing and shaking our butts. No problems existed during the time our showers lasted; it was a sweet, temporary amnesia that I surrendered to willingly every day.  


I dived under the water curtain for a last rinse while Frankie wrote love messages with his finger on the wet tiles. He usually did that when I wasn't watching so I could read them later. 

I closed my eyes, welcoming the artificial rain on my face. I felt observed. Eyes were on me but the feeling was completely different from the one that had assaulted me in the morning. This stare warmed my insides, made my heart skip, caused me to smile.  


Those unmistakable lips I knew by heart were on me again. A hand touched wet skin and slid to rest on the small of Frank's back, bringing him closer; closer than we had ever been there. I would have sworn that I felt something against my leg, but it was just a second. Frankie emitted a strange noise and separated his body from mine.

My eyes opened. "What...?" I interrupted my question to follow his look down. I had been right. 

I lifted his face with my finger. He was blushing. I kissed behind his ear and shifted to his cheek, nose, finally his mouth. His arms were wrapped around my neck but then he lowered one hand and moaned faintly. Again he stepped back, doubting. I waited, afraid of making him feel pressured. His own hand grazed his member; barely, timidly, and he screwed his eyes shut. Although I didn't want to watch, I couldn't help it. He'd always be my sweet, innocent, childish boy; but sometimes he looked so sensual, sexy.  


He caught me off guard when those shaky fingers grasped my hand; his scared, crossed eyes asking for answers...or approval. I didn't know which until he guided that hand. I resisted, unsure, millions of thoughts infesting my head.  


"C-could you...t-touch me there?" he whispered.  


"Frankie I...I'm not sure. It...it's not the same, you know? We're naked and...maybe it's too soon and ...what about...Grace?" It was improper to name her in that kind of situation, but I needed Frank to be certain of what he was asking me and I knew that could do the trick. I was also looking for a way to stop things without making it seem like rejection. It was so _far_ from rejection.  


Things occurred differently.  


Frank smiled. "B-but we're b-boyfriends.G-Grace won't be an-angry 'cause...'c-cause I want to. It...it's f-fine if I w-want to. She s-said." 

He made it sound so simple. And maybe it _was_. It would have been easier for me if he had said he would _not tell_ Grace, though there was really no difference; that woman would find out at any rate. On the other hand, I didn't know everything they had talked about.  


Frankie was still watching me, holding my hand near where he wanted it, expectant. I felt myself getting hard too, and I was trembling. I didn't know in which moment I yielded, but all of a sudden I touched something warm, firm. I closed my fingers around it and Frank rested his head on my shoulder, giving out a shaky sigh. My free hand massaged his scalp and when my first one began to move, his knees slackened. Supporting him, I made him sit down on the bathtub's floor, against the wall. I sat on the opposite side where the curtain was, the border being tall enough to lean on. The space was reduced, which left us _very_ close, facing each other. Butt to butt, knees to knees; legs semi flexed, spread and interlaced.

I inclined forward and kissed him deeply. At the same time I resumed the movement, stroking him gently, the water making it all smoother. Frank broke the kiss, panting, watching me with half-closed eyes. He gave me a weak but satisfied smile, telling me everything was alright. Then he threw his arms around my shoulders, kissing my face all over. I moaned this time, one of my hands caressing his hip while the other one kept the rhythm. Due to us being cramped in that place, my arm would now and then generate some accidental but pleasuring friction for my own. I tried to make it more frequent as I quickened my pace, Frankie jerking his hips up.

Everything was so intense. Frank's tongue waltzing with mine; his wet, warm skin under my fingers, touching him in such an intimate way without any fabric interposing. It was overwhelming. I was totally turned on, _painfully_ turned on.  


Suddenly, one of Frank's hands left my shoulder and went down my chest and abdomen, stopping hesitantly when making contact with its final destination. I forced my eyes open and looked at him. Even amidst pleasure, there was worry on his face. He withdrew his hand and then attempted to put it back on me, as if obliging. I understood that he wasn't ready. I didn't want him to have his own satisfaction ruined by doing something that would make him feel uncomfortable.  


"You don't have to. It's ok, baby. I'm fine," I spoke into his ear, taking his hand and returning it to my neck.

I began to stroke him faster as we made out again, sloppily and intermittently since we were too out of breath to keep up. I knew Frankie was close. I finally gave in and attended to myself properly. I didn't need much. The situation, the rub and those scarce seconds when Frank's hand had been on me had brought me to the edge. My head fell back on the bathtub's border as the release shook me.  


I came back to my senses just in time to see the beauty in front of me; back arched against the wall, his eyes two thin lines, mouth in a perfect 'O' while he exploded with a sharp little yell. I waited for his hazel eyes to be revealed, watching the product of our orgasms being carried away towards the drain. The water had turned colder, but it was welcomed.  


"Oh...w-wow." He looked exhausted, dripping wet hair plastered on his face.  


"I guess...that means you enjoyed it?"  


"Y-yeah, f-felt _so_ g-good! B-but I...I'm t-tired, Gee. An-and dizzy."  


"I know, wait here." I left the cubicle, dried myself quickly and put on my boxers.  


I helped Frankie get up and out, wrapping him in the ample towel and rubbing him dry. He swayed a little, so I sat him on the toilet and assisted him to get his underwear on. When he was ready, I carried him in my arms and left the bathroom, depositing him down on the bed. I climbed after him and he clung to me, kissing me shortly yet sweetly.  


"Do you feel fine, pretty?" I asked him.  


"Y-yes, and l-love you so so very m-muchly."  


"I love you so very muchly more!" I replied, expecting him to go on with the game. But he was yawning, unable to keep his eyes open anymore.  


"S-so tired, Gee," Frank mumbled, and he didn't speak again.  


Although it wasn't even 7 pm and I obviously had things to do, nothing seemed important enough to abandon Frankie at that moment. Everything could wait. 

For minutes and minutes I just watched him sleep, the peaceful view making me sleepy too. The first part of the day had been hard, but one more time I had that compensated at home. It was always like that, just being with my boyfriend brightened my mood no matter what I'd been through. 

Each step Frank and I made, everything we shared, it all brought us closer and closer to each other. What had last happened between us was, without a doubt, good. Not only in a sexual way -although it'd been highly enjoyable in that aspect, but mostly because it had been a demonstration of trust. I felt for once relaxed and positive that I had acted correctly throughout it.  


******  


I still hadn't completely lost awareness when I heard the phone ring. The first thing I did was to check on Frankie; it hadn't woken him up. Instead of instantly leaving the bed to answer the call, I stayed there thinking. I speculated about two options: it could either be Hawkins calling to finally tell me the last piece of information, or Grace -whose strong mom-like powers had alerted her of our activities- wanting to make sure that Frankie was fine. Honestly, I was scared either way. I took so long to consider the possibilities that the ringing stopped.  


When I thought I was safe, the beginning of 'Run to the hills' by Iron Maiden sounded; my cellphone. I quickly picked it up, fumbling with the cover tensely. It was 'option number one'.

"Hello?"  


"Mister Way? I was finally able to locate the procurator. What I found out doesn't make much sense having in mind what Mrs. Neil had told me, but this is the farthest I'll go." Hawkins made that point clear before disclosing what he had to tell me.  


	39. Chapter 39

_I don't know but I've been told  
the streets of hell are paved with gold.  
Crazy, crazy.  
You told me that nothing's free  
except my own insanity.  
Crazy, maybe._

"Don't worry, I won't ask you to find out anything else. We only need this information," I told Hawkins. I understood that the man wasn't a private investigator. He had helped us out of kindness because his cousin -Grace's friend- asked him to.  


"It's fine. I didn't want to sound rude, but I prefer to avoid getting involved in money affairs save I am hired for that."  


"Fair enough. So...why did you say that what you found out doesn't make sense?"  


"Well, by the time Mrs. Neil called me, that kid Frank Iero was still at the mental institution. However, the money to pay for the place wasn't arriving anymore, right?" he rhetorically questioned.  


"Exactly..."  


"I talked to the procurator that his grandmother had assigned before dying. He told me that the daughter of the deceased went to see him about four months ago and notified him that her son, Frank Iero, had just passed away too," Alexander said. 

Rage pulsed wildly through my veins. That piece of shit had virtually killed her son _twice_? "What the fuck? How could she?" I let out louder than I should have. "Sorry, I...but that man believed her just like that?"  


"Of course this woman's words didn't suffice," he replied, ignoring my outburst."The procurator assured me that all the required documents were presented. They all confirmed that the youth Frank Iero had died from a heart attack after a nervous episode."  


"But that's _not_ true! Didn't he call the institution?" I felt an irrepressible urge to get to the truth; to understand all that shit and make sure the culprits paid. It wasn't about the money, it was about dignity, respect towards a human being. You just _don't_ fake your own son's death two times and pull it off like nothing.  


"He couldn't get into details, but based on how those legal procedures usually are, we can safely assume that he did call the institution," Hawkins stated. Did that mean that someone in that place was also implicated?  


"Then they lied too! Is everybody fucking corrupted here?" I exclaimed angrily. 

Frankie stirred beside me, blinking. "Wh-why you s-screaming, Gee?" he spoke huskily. 

I covered the phone with my hand, keeping it as far as possible, and smiled at him. "It's nothing baby, go back to sleep."  


"K-kay." He yawned and hugged my waist. I rubbed his back to help him relax.  


"Yes, sorry." I apologized to Hawkins. "People who seem capable of anything for money just...get on my nerves."  


"I understand. But as I said...I know nothing else about that and I don't want to go farther. It's up to Mrs. Neil if she wants to do something."  


"I'll let her know. Just one more thing: did Alice's daughter receive the money that her mother had left for Frank?"  


"She did. Mrs. Caravaggio didn't specify a second option in case her grandson died, so the money was transferred to the closest relative."  


"SHIT! Oh...excuse me again. Thank you very much, mister Hawkins. You were of great help."  


"You're welcome. And if you permit me an advice...be careful," he concluded before the line went dead.

I was so shaken by the news that I couldn't just sit there. I carefully slid from under Frank's arms and replaced my body with a pillow. I went to the living room and began to walk in circles, trying to figure out what I should do; but my brain was not functioning correctly. I was a bundle of nerves. Angst, anger, fear, and _that_ need. The need for something to slow down my accelerated, chaotic train of thought.

I was walking towards the kitchen when the phone rang again, startling me so much that I almost fell backwards. I neared the device cautiously, as if it could bite me.  


"Hello?" I mumbled into the speaker. Silence, no response. "Hello?" I repeated, hearing nothing at all. I hung up quickly and realised that I was trembling all over. Had it been a simple wrong number? Had it been something else? Should I be scared? Regardless of what the answer to that query might be, I was _already_ scared.  


I practically ran to the fridge, snapping open the door and clutching a can of beer with desperation. I knew it wasn't the best idea, but I needed to calm down. Frankie couldn't see me like this. It wasn't until both my hands were required that I took conscience of my left one still holding the cellphone. I had never let go of it. My eyes traveled from the beer to the phone back and forth and I finally decided to make a call instead of drinking.

"Hello? Gerard?" I heard Ray's voice and everything I was keeping inside poured out of my mouth. I needed to vent.  


"THEY FUCKING MADE HIM PASS AS DEAD AGAIN, RAY! THAT BITCH SAID FRANK WAS DEAD SO SHE COULD STEAL THE DAMN MONEY FRANK'S GRANDMA LEFT HIM!"  


"Gerard...please fucking calm down and lower your voice!"  


"I CAN'T FUCKING CALM DOWN, RAY! I CAN'T! FUCKING...WHORE!"  


"GERARD, STOP IT!" Ray screamed into my ear. I shut up, starting to cry instead. It was hard to breathe, my chest felt tight. "Do you want Frankie to hear you? He's not there with you, is he?"  


"S-sorry, Ray. No...Frankie's not here, he's sleeping. I feel...so stressed right now."  


"Don't tell me that you hadn't imagined that it was about money..."  


"I had, but hearing it from Hawkins made it more real, more terrible. Isn't there anything that could be done?" I asked, trying to stop crying.  


"Gerard, _don't_. Leave it there, it's just money. Forget about it and let them drown in it."  


"It's not about _the money_! It's about _Frank_! It...it's about his identity. It hurts to think that someone so sweet and full of life as him is dead to the world. And it hurts me even more to know that it was his mother who did that. She's now enjoying the prize somewhere when she doesn't even deserve to fucking live! There _has_ to be s-something to do, to prove Frank's alive," I choked, sobbing loudly.  


"Gerard, breathe! You need to calm down, seriously. There is _nothing_ you can do. If you went to the police to claim that Frank is alive, you'd be asked lots of questions. Frank is mentally ill so sadly, no one would care about what he thinks. The law would not allow him to decide who to live with, and you're not his relative. They could not only take him away from you, but also lock you up for keeping a person who was reported dead. Is that what you want?" 

Ray's words scared me, yet they had their effect on me; I finally understood that it was better to quit my investigation. As much as it hurt. As much as I wanted to avenge Frank. In spite of the anger I was holding inside. Nothing was worth risking it all. Nothing was more important than Frankie, having him with me and knowing he'd be fine.  


"Y-you're right, Ray. And this time I mean it, you're right. I won't do anything, I promise I won't try. I don't want to lose him, I don't wanna fuck up, I swear I don't...I don't..." I sniffed.  


"I'm glad to hear that, at last. Now _please_ , forget about it, don't let it end your sanity. Frankie needs you."  


"I...I know. I'm just...so scared right now, what if I already fucked up? That call I got a while ago I..." I suddenly regretted telling him, but it was late.  


"What call? Did something else happen, Gee?"  


"I d-don't know. I picked up the phone and no one answered. Do you think it means something?"  


"Uh...no, I'm sure it's nothing, wrong number probably. Don't give it importance, you have enough to worry about," Ray reassured me, though I could sense the doubt in his voice.  


"Ok..."  


"Gee, do you think you'll be fine? It could be bad for Frankie to notice you so nervous. I would offer to bring him here for the night, but my parents would interrogate me. You could ask Bob, though, he lives alone. I know he's not the most serious guy, but one can see that he adores Frank. Maybe it's better if..."  


"NO!" I interrupted him. I couldn't bear the idea of Frank being away from me, not even for a night, not at the moment. "I need Frankie with me, I'll calm down for him."  


"Alright, then go with him. Even if he's sleeping just stay with him all the time and get away from that can of beer. Drinking's not gonna help you at all," he reprimanded me. 

I gasped, highly astonished. "How do you...?"  


"It's been years, I know you. And I know what your escape is as of late." I could 'hear' him smirk.  


"Don't worry, I won't touch it. I feel better already...thanks, Ray"  


"Take care, Gee. We all need you in one piece." He ended the communication.  


"Enough, no more detective Way," I muttered as I put the beer can back into the fridge. 

A wave of craving hit me once again, and I contemplated the cans for a while until I was able to close the door. I returned to the bedroom and lied down with Frankie, hugging him close to me. I couldn't stop the tears that fell one after another on the pillow.  


"G-gee, you're c-crying again? Wh-what happened?" he asked softly, kissing my forehead.  


"I just...I had a nightmare, that's all."  


"Oh, wh-what you d-dreamed?"  


"I don't remember, I guess I was crying in my dream," I made up. 

Frankie looked at the ceiling and stood up on the bed, one hand on the wall to keep his balance. He reached up and appeared to grab something. "F-for you. Th-the alien plant l-let me reach it! It...it'll m-make you feel b-better." He nodded, handing me the imaginary item. I guessed it was an orange by the position of Frank's hand.  


I simulated removing a little piece of the rind and brought the invisible fruit to my lips, squeezing it and pretending to suck the juice out of it. I concentrated enough, pushing any other thoughts off my mind, until I could actually savor the orange.  


"Is...is it y-yummy?" Frank inquired smiling. I smiled back, even though I knew Ray or my mother would kill me if they saw me playing along with Frankie's hallucinations.  


"The _best_ orange I've ever had. And you were right, I feel better already." And I did, momentarily at least.

******  


Everything came back to me the following day. All the information, the nerves, the indignation. As soon as I woke up that awful feeling inside my chest had returned. I tried to hide it from Frankie as much as I could; however, something told me he had registered it. He didn't ask or speak about it, yet he was unusually nervous. Unusual since he had started taking the medication.  


When Ray arrived I was trying to make Frank eat his cereal, though all he did was stir it around inside the bowl as he slightly balanced his body and swung his legs that hung from the chair.  


"Frankie, stop playing with the food. Eat, babe," I told him.  


"Y-yeah, kay," he answered monotonously, still not bringing anything to his mouth.  


"Hello, boys!" Ray greeted us. "What's wrong with our little man here?"  


"I'm not sure, he seems anxious. He won't stay quiet and is too distracted, he hasn't even tried his breakfast."  


"Did he have his meds?" he questioned.  


"Yeah, that he did, luckily. Hopefully he'll be better in an hour or so."  


"Let's see..." Ray sat on the nearest chair and moved the hair out of Frank's eyes. "Do you feel fine, Frankie?"  


"Uh...h-hi Ray. Y-yeah, fine," he spoke in a low voice, rubbing his face compulsively. It reminded me of how he was two months ago, which caused me sadness and guilt; maybe my own stress was getting to him. 

Ray's stare told me that he was thinking the same. He grabbed Frank's hand and kept it in between his until the boy stopped fighting to get it free. "Ok. Now you need to eat your breakfast because you just took your meds, it's bad with an empty stomach. Want me or Gee to help you?"  


"N-no. H-hands are n-not shaking now, s-see?" Frankie showed him. "I c-can."  


"I see. Then start eating, your cereal is gonna get dizzy if you keep pushing it around like that!" Ray smiled. Frankie giggled and began to eat slowly.  


"Thanks." I patted Ray's arm gratefully. "It seems Frankie doesn't want anything to do with me today."  


"It's not that, Gee. He can feel that you're tense and worried, and since you two are so close it disturbs him too. Of course it'd be hard for you to help Frankie calm down if you can't do it with yourself."  


"Guess you're right. I'll be better by the time I'm back from work, some distraction will do me good." I kissed Frank's head. "Bye pretty, we'll do something together later, ok?"  


"Y-yeah. Th-that's good. And...and d-don't be sad, kay? L-love you." He hugged my neck and kissed my cheek before going back to his meal. 

Frank always knew how to make me feel better. He was really concerned about me, and that was another reason why I had to forget and let go of my revenge plans. He needed tranquility, and I couldn't ruin it by chasing a most probably lost cause. Ray was right, there was nothing I could do without putting us both in danger.  


******

That day, although I cowardly decided to drive to the store, the paranoia continued. I couldn't help looking at the rearview mirror permanently, fearing someone might be following me. When nothing happened, I gradually began to feel more relaxed.  


During lunch break I had an idea to draw my and Frank's minds away from worries, so on my way back home I made a stop to get what I needed.

"A lawn mower? Since when are you into gardening?" Ray mocked me when he opened the door, after I let him know that I'd forgotten the keys.  


"Since...today? I borrowed it from a neighbor. I need to mow the grass first if I wanna plant some flowers, don't I?" I grinned.  


"F-flowers? Really? W-we're gonna buy f-flowers?" Frankie appeared with Puppy in his arms. He looked kinda tired, but his face lighted up when he heard me.  


"Yes, we will! What were you doing, babe?" I pecked his lips, Puppy licking us both in the meantime. "What a jealous guy you are, doggie!"  


"N-nothing," Frankie answered shortly. He left Puppy on the couch and squeezed me needy.  


"Hey! What's wrong, love?"  


"N-nothing," he repeated. I could see that he was still acting weird.  


"He's not been very communicative today. He spent most of the time in the bedroom playing with Puppy and his...other friends." Ray got closer to me and whispered in my ear. "During one of the few times that he left that room, I'm pretty sure he was whispering to himself like he used to."  


"Damn..." I was now hoping that Frank's behavior was _just_ my fault and he'd be better once I stopped stressing about everything. I certainly didn't want to feel obliged to increase his medication.  


"Wh-what you t-talking in secret? Th-that's bad!" Frank tugged at my shirt.  


"We were talking about _old men_ stuff, that's why you couldn't hear. It was very boring, anyway," Ray said.  


"Ahh, k-kay then. C-can we go b-buy the flowers n-now?"  


"First let me go change and mow the grass, then we'll go. It'll be quick, the front yard's not too big.

It took me less than ten minutes to find some old, comfortable clothes that I wouldn't mind getting green stains on. Satisfied with having found an extension for the machine's cord, I turned it on to execute my task. Honestly, Ray had a reason to laugh at me. Even while living with my parents -where we owned a huge garden- I hadn't taken care of the grass more than a couple of times; and never after I moved. My mom would come and do it once in a while when it got too overgrown. Not like it was such a difficult challenge, anyway; and thinking of how happy it would make Frank was the best incentive to help me get rid of my chronic laziness.  


Frankie was sitting outside with Ray on the door's step. My friend was in no hurry to go home, so he'd decided to seize the opportunity and have some fun at my expense. As I started the lawn mower's motor, I found it kinda therapeutic. The noise invaded my brain and made it impossible for me to think of anything else. _Just what I needed._

Then another sound reached me, one that I couldn't figure out at first. I looked towards the house and saw that Frank was screaming, pulling at his hair and pushing Ray -who was trying to hold him- away. I turned the mower off and walked to them.  


"What's wrong, Frankie? Baby...talk to me..."  


"D-don't like, no. D-don't like," was all he said. I was thankful that he let me hold him.  


"I think the noise scared him," Ray commented.  


"Shit, I'm so stupid sometimes, I should have thought of that. Sorry, Frankie, I forgot that you don't like loud noises. Ray will stay with you inside until I'm done, ok? It'll be just for a few minutes, I promise."  


"K-kay. I...I d-don't wanna h-hear it."  


"I have a better idea. Why don't you and Frankie go buy the plants now? I'll mow the grass," Ray proposed.  


"Y-yes! L-let's go now!"  


"No, Ray...I feel like I'm abusing your kindness. You do a lot for us, man." I doubted.  


"Oh, come on! It's a tiny yard and I love doing this, really!"  


"Sure?"  


"Go NOW!" he pushed us away.

Frankie didn't give me permission to go change again. I only managed to get some money while he was dragging me outside in my ugly green shorts. Before getting into the car, I instinctively casted a look around us. There was a black car parked at one corner that seemed to take off as soon as I glanced in its direction. I thought of going back and warning Ray just in case, but then I reconsidered it. I had to control my paranoia. There were hundreds of black cars, and I hadn't seen it well enough to tell if it was the same one that had followed me that morning. Besides, I couldn't even assure that I had been, in fact, followed.

We arrived at the nursery and garden supplies place and Frankie went straight to where all the flowery bushes were, touching and smelling them. I took his hand so he wouldn't escape anywhere.  


"Frankie? Listen, baby. I don't have enough money for big plants, so we'll only buy some little ones with pretty flowers, ok?" I explained to not give him false expectations.  


"It's f-fine, I l-like little plants with f-flowers too. B-but lemme s-see these?"  


"Of course, you can see all you want. Just...don't touch them!" I stopped his hand. "Some of them have thorns, see? They could hurt you, so look _without touching_."  


"K-kayyy, grumpy! N-not touching!" He hid his hands behind his back and smirked.

We wandered around the place and Frankie observed every plant. He examined them at close range from every angle and smelled them all. At one point I wondered if he could still smell anything at all after inhaling so many different aromas. Finally, we sauntered towards the section where small plants were held. A vast, multicolored spot among the green.  


"L-look! I w-want with f-flowers of all c-colors!" Frank jumped excited.  


"Choose the ones you like and put them here." I pointed at a plastic basket I had picked up at the entrance.  


"K-kay...I want m-many!"  


He chose petunias, impatiens, daisies, gazanias and even some early purple pansies. We already had a rainbow inside our basket, but Frankie went for more. "L-look, blue! I d-don't have blue y-yet!" he signaled some lobelias. 

I left him to pick up the ones he wanted while I searched the near garden tools section for a scoop. I got distracted for some minutes until I suddenly felt Frankie cling to me from behind, hiding his face against my shirt.  


"Oh...hi, there! You're done choosing?"  


"N-no, but d-don't wanna go th-there," he mumbled upset.  


"Why? What happened?"  


"S-some boys were l-looking at me so I t-talked to them about th-he flowers."  


"You wanted to make friends? That's good, Frankie!"  


"Y-yes...no but...but th-they didn't answer and they l-laughed and...and one s-said 'I th-think the poor k-kid's retarded' and they l-left and d-didn't want to t-talk to me." He sniffed. "I...I'm _n-not_ fucking r-retarded!"  


"Of course not. Ignore those boys, they don't mean to be rude. Some people don't know how to talk to others who are different, that's all. If they tried, they'd see you can perfectly have an interesting conversation, they're the ones missing it! You have to keep trying, though; don't give up on talking to people, ok?"  


He scratched his head nervously. "K-kay."  

Sometimes I hated people, but I knew there were many things I couldn't protect Frank from. He would have to endure situations like this for the rest of his life, and I didn't want him to become antisocial because of it.  


"So, if the kids left...why don't you wanna go back?"  


"D-dunno."  


"Come on, let's go for the lobelias and then home." I grabbed his hand and guided him. "I don't think I can afford more plants now, we can come back in a couple of months for some winter ones."  


"Y-yay, yes! Th-they'll have m-more pansies, then? W-we had a lot wh-where I lived when it was w-winter."  


"Yep, I'm sure they'll have lots and of many more colors." I kissed his mouth. He looked so pretty that I couldn't help it. I didn't give a damn about the old ladies that huffed with disgust.

******  


On our return, we found a neat but bare garden, waiting to be adorned with some touches of color. Ray was still there, watching TV and drinking a soda.  


"Is everything alright here?" I asked my friend, who diverted his eyes from the screen to look at me.  


"Does it look like something's wrong?" he frowned  


"No, I just..."  


"Everything's fine, Gerard. Give your mind a break, please!" He got up and, depositing the glass in my hand, headed for the door. "I'm leaving now. Enjoy the gardening, boys!"  


"Thanks for everything, Toro!" I guessed that if he didn't leave, he'd end up kicking my ass.  


"B-bye, Ray!" Frankie gave him a hug and followed him outside.  


"Hey, hey, hey! You stay inside, mister!" I caught his arm.  


"B-but we gotta g-go plant the f-flowers!"  


"I know, let me go pee first and then we'll go."  


"I'll w-wait outside."  


"Nope, you can't be outside alone." I locked the door and took the keys with me.  


"Aww m-meanie..." I heard him protest.  


******  


With the help of a shovel, I stirred the soil next to the house's walls, creating a grass-less strip. In the meantime, Frankie collected little stones in our backyard and brought them in a bucket. As I dug up an extra, circular space for planting in the middle of the garden, he bordered the first area with the rocks, making it look like a nice flowerbed. Then he did the same with the rounded zone in the center, greatly improving the garden's appearance. We finally sat on the ground surrounded by all the plants we'd bought.  


"Ok, now you take this scoop and make a hole where you want a plant to go. It doesn't need to be too deep," I instructed him. 

He complied and began to dig, carelessly tossing the removed soil and covering us both in it.  


"Eww, I think I have soil in my mouth!" I spat to my side. 

Frank turned to me, stared at my surely dirty face and burst into a fit of laughter. After all the stress we'd been through -even if indirectly in his case- Frank having a laugh attack was an amusing sight and the best sound I could have wished to hear. I thought back to my childhood, when my mom, my brother and I used to take care of the garden together. I remembered how I enjoyed it and how she would get angry when Mikey and I threw dirt at each other and made a mess. I had lost interest as I grew up, but now I was happy with this chance to do it again with Frankie. It was a pleasant activity to share, one of those that somehow gave you peace.  


"Now tell me which flower you wanna put there and I'll take it out of the container," I told him once he stopped laughing. 

He took a time to think and then chose an impatiens with red flowers. I removed the flimsy plastic flowerpot -carefully to not break the compacted soil- and handed Frankie the plant.  


"L-like this?" he placed it inside the hole.  


"Perfect! You like it like that? You can turn it if you prefer a different side facing the front."  


"N-nope, it...it's f-fine like that." He nodded."Wh-what now?  


"Push the loose soil from around the plant towards it, so it fills the empty spaces. You could do it with the scoop, but I believe it's a lot better with your hands. It feels pretty good when you touch it." I showed him by doing it myself and he joined me right away, smiling from ear to ear as soon as his hands felt the humid material. "Now we apply a little pressure with our palms, like this."  


As he pressed the ground, I covered his hands with mine. He turned round, neared his stained face and kissed my forehead, nose and mouth in a quick motion.  


"Can you still see with these?" I laughed, snatching Frankie's smudgy glasses without waiting for an answer. I cleaned them with the inside of my t-shirt and gave them back to him.  


"B-better!" he giggled. 

The moment was magical, special; and he looked radiant. I found myself pushing him down and we kissed for several seconds, lying on the grass. If I had been more conscious I would have avoided that display, afraid of our neighbors seeing us. But Frankie's beauty and my love for him lost me, therefore it wasn't too soon before I thought about it.  


"Alright, guess we should continue before night comes," I suggested sitting up. No one seemed to be around.  


"Y-yeah! W-wanna plant them all n-now!"  


We followed the same work pattern with each of the small plants. Frankie made sure that the colors were well mixed, making the pansies the main attraction in the middle of each flowerbed. When it was done, we stood hand in hand at the entrance to admire the result. Even though it was already sunset and the sky was darkening, our garden seemed to have its own light. It shined, it gave me a warm feeling inside. _Just like Frankie._

The last step was to irrigate our new colorful friends, water droplets landing on our dirt-clad skin and creating mud.  


There was no discussion about whether we needed a shower; the gardening was the perfect excuse to have an urgent one. There was no second intention behind it. In spite of what had happened the night before in the bathroom, I wasn't expecting anything. I just wanted to be with Frank, relax in his company, let the water wash away all worries together with the dirt.  


"It's over, I have _nothing_ to worry about," I told myself.  


	40. Chapter 40

_Talk to me softly,  
there's something in your eyes.  
Don't hang your head in sorrow,  
and please don't cry,_

It had been two days since Frankie and I worked together to beautify our front garden. Two days that hadn't been exactly easy. I had tried to keep my cool and forget about my fears; but more often than I would have liked my mind went back to that mysterious call and that creepy, black car. As much as I wanted to hide it, I was still afraid

Frankie had been very affectionate and clingy, but clearly unstable. Some old tics had come back, and he could hardly concentrate to read or even listen to us reading. Together with his new 'Martian vine', he was seeing his usual invisible friends more frequently; and although Ray and my mother didn't approve, I had chosen to let him play with them in peace. He seemed to be calmer and at ease while doing it. On the other hand, I did my best to spend the largest amount of time possible with him. Kissing him, caressing him, or sharing activities like watering our renewed garden or even watching TV and commenting about it.

Everybody had something to opine about what I should do with him, and I wasn't so sure anymore. Ray insisted that I needed to at least stop worrying and then both of us would feel better, but I could see that he was worried too. The previous day, he had given Frank a metallic tag with a string to put around his neck. It said 'Frankie' together with his pathology on one side and had Ray's phone number on the other; so Frank would have it at hand in case of an emergency. I agreed that the idea was good, but at the same time it proved that my friend was also considering the possibility of something bad occurring. Even if we hadn't noticed anything else suspicious during those last days.

******

Whenever I had enough time before work, I liked to stay until Frank finished breakfast, so we could have another meal together besides dinner. That morning, however, I had needed to abandon my own cup of cereal to help Frank with his. He had been _very_ absentminded since he woke up, and when we finally got him to acknowledge the bowl in front of him, his hands were shaking so much that it angered him. Before he could succeed at throwing everything off the table, I had sat him on my lap and convinced him to let me feed him.  


I brought the spoon to his mouth while kissing his cheek "Last one!" 

After swallowing, Frankie leaned against my chest whimpering and scratching at his arms.  


"What's wrong, baby? You don't have to feel bad, you know I don't mind helping you. I enjoy it, actually. Shh...don't do that, look at me." I held his hands together and he raised his eyes.  


"D-dunno," he murmured. Ray, who was sitting in front of us, just shook his head concernedly.  


"You don't know what's wrong? Is that what you mean?" I asked Frank.  


"Y-yeah. I...I'm...d-dunno." He frowned, looking really confused.  


"It's ok, I won't ask then. Take your pill now, I gotta go."

"K-kay." Frankie did as I told him obediently, as usual opening up his mouth afterwards for me too see there was nothing.  


"Very well. Now...give me a big kiss to take so I won't miss you that much?" I encircled his waist.  


"M-muah!" he voiced, kissing my lips eagerly. Then he stared at me with sadness on his face. "I...I d-don't want you to l-leave. P-please stay?"  


"I can't stay, Frankie. We've talked about this, we need the money..."  


"Th-then take m-me with you?"  


"He'll take you some other day, Frankie," Ray told him. "You haven't been feeling too well lately, so you better stay here and rest."  


"D-DON'T WANT TO! I'M F-FINE!" Frank screamed and pulled at the tablecloth, sending everything that was on it to the floor. After that, he took off his glasses and threw them at Ray -who caught them just in time. 

He finally stood up and stormed to the couch, diving onto it. He kicked, punched and hit his head while screaming out incomprehensible words. 

My head fell on the table and I started to cry, completely lost and desperate. "It's...it's all my fault, Ray. He had a regression because of me, _I_ did that to him. You know I did."  


"It's not your fault, Gerard, your intentions were good. You just didn't think of the consequences. And now of course, you can't help being nervous and scared. And I know you hate to talk about it, but I don't think the way Frank's been acting is _just_ because you transferred your nerves to him..." Ray held me.  


"I don't know Ray, I don't know what's the best thing to do."  


"For now you just go to work. I'll clean this and..."  


"But Frankie? He is..." I looked at my boy who was red faced and crying, discharging all his rage, frustration and confusion on a piece of furniture.  


"Frankie will be fine, it'd be worse if we tried to near him now. He won't hurt himself there. In a moment he'll be tired and probably fall asleep. You go, we'll talk when you get back." Ray handed me a tissue.  


"Thanks." I grabbed my things and walked to the door, giving Frankie -who was still throwing a tantrum- a last look. Maybe Ray and my mother were right, again.  


"I love you, babe," I said aloud before parting.

******  


I was giving a customer some advice about oil painting when the mobile over the door tinkled, signaling that more people had arrived. I didn't have a view of the entrance from where I was, but I saw Sarah leave her place behind the counter to greet the new comers, so I went back to what I was doing.  


"Linseed oil is the most used, but then you..."  


"Gerard?" I was interrupted by my boss.  


"Yeah?"  


"I'll help this lady here, you have visits." Sarah smiled.  


I headed towards the front of the place and there stood Ray with his arms around a very untidy Frank. The boy's hair was messier than ever, his clothes were wrinkled and stretched and his eyes were red and puffy. However, he smiled as widely as always and ran to my arms when he saw me.  


"Oh, Frankie...what happened?" I mostly asked Ray, embracing Frank and kissing his head.  


"I had to bring him. He wouldn't stop crying and screaming every time I tried to get close to him. He didn't want to eat or do anything at all, just stayed there lost in his own world. Only when I suggested coming here he reacted well, so...here we are. I didn't want to stress him any more." Ray sighted.  


"N-needed you," Frank rasped.  


I smiled with certain sadness. "It's fine, you did well." 

I sat Frank on the counter, trying to fix his hair a little. When I could see his face better, I noticed he had a lot of scratches.  


"He did that to himself, I couldn't stop him. I tried to get his nails cut but he wouldn't let me," Ray explained, realising what I was looking at. "Oh, and I bought him a sandwich on our way here, maybe he'll eat it now."  


Frank touched his face. "D-didn't do an-anything. Th-the...the l-little people h-hurt me. T-told them to f-fuck off 'cause...'cause I w-was angry. Th-they made me ug-ugly now."  


"No, they didn't. You're still pretty, and you did this _with your own nails_ , it wasn't the little people. They're not real, remember? They can't hurt you." I told him while I unpacked the sandwich, offering it to him. He took it without paying attention. 

Sarah, who had been close for the last couple of minutes, disappeared through the side door.  


"W-well...they h-hurt me the same!" Frank insisted.  


"Ok, but now eat this. I'll find you something to drink."  


"K-kay. B-but...but _they_ d-did it!"

Right then,  Sarah came back carrying a first aid kit and little scissors. "You, mini-man, eat that. I'll take care of the rest in the meantime. Keep the sandwich in one hand and give me the other."  


"N-no, Gee s-says can't touch s-scissors! T-told him nothing can h-happen but same, h-he doesn't let m-me."  


"Gerard's right, but you won't touch them, I will." Sarah laughed. "I'm just going to cut your nails, that's all. It won't hurt, I promise, I'm an expert."  


"K-kay. B-but see what the l-little people did to m-me? Th-they'll do the s-same to you if it h-hurts!" Frankie menaced.  


"Deal," the woman assented. 

She seemed to be a real expert as she'd said, because Frankie continued to eat his sandwich and never complained. He even offered her his other hand without being asked as soon as Sarah finished with the first one.  


"That's not fair," Ray whispered to me. "He almost sent me flying through a window when I attempted to do the same!"  


"Oh...wow. Maybe Sarah reminds him of Grace and that's why she calms him down?" I guessed.  


"Yeah, could be."

After the manicuring session, Sarah cleaned all of the scratches with infinite patience and suavity. She gave me permission to go home earlier, but Frankie wanted us to stay so he could help. I agreed, thinking it might be good for him to get distracted. I told Ray to go home and enjoy some extra free hours for once.  


In spite of his plans, Frankie only got to help Sarah arrange a few things before quickly falling asleep on a chair. We carried him to another room where there was a little bed and I returned to my tasks, giving him some time to rest. He hadn't been getting much at night.  


******  


"C-can we go h-home now?" I heard Frankie ask behind my back nearly two hours later. I turned round and found him yawning and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.  


I grabbed his hand. "Of course. Let's go tell Sarah that we're leaving."   


******

Seeing how tired Frankie was, I suggested to take a taxi, but he insisted that we walked. He was in no mood to withstand an argument so I complied.  


At one point, half way home, I began to experience that sense of being observed again. The way Frankie squeezed my hand told me he was feeling it too, or he was at least perceiving my uneasiness. Without stopping our march, I looked in all directions. I could see nothing weird. Neither were there many people on the street, which on one side scared me even more. I was hoping for a taxi to appear, but there was none in sight. I wasn't going to risk waiting there for one.  


"Let's walk a little faster, we'll be home soon," I whispered to Frank and he nodded.  


Suddenly everything seemed to me unusually silent, creepy. The late summer air appeared to change, and a cold breeze made the little hairs on my bare arms bristle. I thought I was imagining it all, but then Frank wrapped his free arm around his body, shuddering.  


"Come on, Gerard. A sudden change in the weather doesn't mean anything bad, fall is close after all!" I encouraged myself. I knew, of course, that the weather wasn't the problem; but it wasn't helping at all. It made me more nervous and I wanted to be home already.  


My breath was caught in my throat as we reached a corner crossed by a dead-end street. I doubted, yet kept on waking. When we got to said corner and were about to pass it by, we heard footsteps out of nowhere. I intended to look back, but a strong arm held my head in place, a sweaty hand covering my mouth while a second arm grabbed me firmly by the waist. I tried to scream, but my screams where stifled. With a violent tug that made all the bones in my fingers hurt, I felt Frankie's hand being separated from mine. His cries were also suppressed.

As I was forced towards the deserted alley, I could catch a glimpse of the man that was holding Frankie in the same way I was being held myself. He was completely dressed in black; black shirt, black suit, black tie and shoes. Even half of his face was covered by huge, black sunglasses. Only his hair was lighter; brown, brushed back with gel.  


Frank was kicking and punching. I just allowed my captor to take me wherever he was going to. Fear had paralyzed me and I didn't want to die. Four months ago I would have begged them to kill me, and to do it _quickly_. Not anymore. I didn't want everything to end like that. I had a life now; something - and even more important someone- to live for. And I didn't want Frankie to end up hurt because of my gigantic mistake. I should have never stuck my nose into those kind of matters. Now it was too late, it was maybe the end after all. I knew _too much_. Not for a moment it occurred to me that those guys could just want to rob us. I knew that wasn't the case, I felt it. And thinking of how scared Frankie must be made my heart shrink. Why did it have to happen this day? Why when the boy was with me? Were they waiting for it? Did they want to make sure that they'd get rid of both of us?  


They took us behind a dumpster at the back of the alley, the main street on the distance. Too far for people too notice, any potential noise completely suffocated by the incessant parade of cars barely a block from there.  


The brown haired guy violently pushed Frank against an old factory's wall. His back collided with it and he fell to the ground, sobbing loudly. Something awoke in me, and I twisted in the other man's arms. He was dressed exactly like his partner, but was much taller, bigger and stronger and it was impossible to get myself free. I watched Frank's terrified eyes and I cried, tears blurring my vision.  


"You better stay there quiet and silent. I don't want to have to hurt you, but I will if you're not a good boy, ok?" the man spoke to Frankie in a deep voice.  


"D-don't h-hurt him. D-don't hurt G-gee, p-please," he murmured. My knees failed me and I fell, but the guy obliged me to stand up again.  


"Are you going to be quiet or not?" Frank's abductor raised his voice this time, kicking his legs.  


"Y-yes," Frankie whined and made a ball of himself on the floor, hugging his knees, his eyes fixed on me. He was too scared to fight back as he would on a different occasion. I cried harder, choking and gasping for air.  


"Now, _you._ " The guy pressed me roughly to the wall. "One word and the little retard gets it."  


He uncovered my mouth only so he could use both his hands to immobilize me. He didn't need much to do that, he looked like a gorilla rather than a man. His robust hands were gripping my shoulders, and his body was so close to mine that I thought he would crush me. I wasn't even able to expand my chest enough to breathe properly, and I was starting to feel dizzy.

"Listen, faggot. Here's the message for you. If you wanna live, stop playing detective. No more calls, no more questions, no more investigation. Keep the brainless rat if you please, but make sure no one else knows who he is. Forget about everything else," his stinky mouth spat at me. 

I wanted to punch his face so much. I wanted to retort because I couldn't stand people calling Frankie names. But I didn't. I swallowed hard and kept everything inside, I had fucked up enough. What I'd been fearing so much had become true, and I was the only one to blame. 

"Understood?" he added, shaking me. 

I nodded slowly, completely blinded by tears now; the salty liquid penetrating my mouth, making my tongue sting.  


"That's better." He smirked, and for a moment I had hope. I thought that maybe that was it, that they would leave us in peace. Hadn't he said that I could live if I agreed to stop investigating?

Sadly, they had something else in mind to make me learn my lesson. I knew it when a hard-as-stone fist met my stomach and made me slide to the ground in pain. I panted, contorted, and desperately looked around for Frankie. He was still lying on his side, no sound coming out of his pursed lips as his eyes watered endlessly. Always staring at me. Those eyes gave me strength and I tried to get up, but the simian pushed me back down.  


"Do your job," he instructed the smaller man. 

The addressed one shoved his hand inside of his jacket and retrieved a gun. 

Frankie let out a terrified shriek and I reached out to touch him, even if barely. "Shh."  


I saw the guy point the gun at me and I closed my eyes tightly, crying harder than I had ever cried in my life, my hand still on Frank's leg. As I waited for my fate I prayed, something that I hadn't done since I was a kid. I prayed for my life, for _our_ life, I prayed for Frankie to be fine if I didn't get out of this alive. 

There was a small explosion that I had barely time to register before a sharp, dull pain invaded me. I didn't even know where it had originated, but I could then feel it spread through my upper body at the same time that something warm and sticky ran down my left side.  


"NO! _Not_ the kid!" I heard the big man's voice.  


"But the boss said..." his partner argued.  


"I don't care what the boss said, I'm not letting you shoot this nutcase. I don't go that low."

After that I must have blacked out for some seconds, or maybe minutes. When I opened my eyes Frankie was kneeling beside me, his tears falling on my face; and the two guys were nowhere to be seen. The pain was now even more intense and I couldn't move.  


"G-gee? Th-thought you w-were d-dead. Y-you can't. C-can't die, n-no." Frankie shook his head, crying harder. His eyes were moving rapidly, same as that first time I saw him, and it took him a while to set them back on me.  


"Ar-are you fine, Frankie? Did they h-hurt you?" I asked him, making a big effort to raise my right hand and touch his face.  


" _Y-you_ are h-hurt. Y-yes, _you_. Th-there's blood...l-lots..."  


"I'm fine, baby, I'm fine. Don't be scared." I tried to sound convincing although I was feeling weaker and weaker, fighting to keep my eyes open.  


"N-NO YOU'RE N-NOT, TH-THERE'S B-BLOOD! L-LOTS OF B-BLOOD, S-SEE?" he screamed, showing me his hands that were covered in it. 

I was aware that I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer, so I had to do something. No one would usually step into that alley, I would definitely die if I just stayed there waiting. But I couldn't get up, I had already lost too much blood. I made a last desperate attempt and Frankie even tried to help me, but it was useless; I felt myself faint. I also realised that they had taken away my cellphone. 

I motioned for Frankie to get closer, since I couldn't do more than whisper. "F-frankie, listen. You can help me."  


"Y-yes...I...I h-help."  


"Let me t-talk. Go back to the street where we came from, the one you can see there?" I pointed. "D-don't go far, just s-stay in the corner and wait until you see someone, anyone. P-please baby, stay in the sidewalk!"  


"S-sidewalk, yeah." He nodded.  


"When you f-find someone, tell them what h-happened and where I am," I added. He stared at me, confused and doubtful. I wasn't sure if he had understood, but everything was spinning and my vision was turning black. There was no time. "G-go now, I'll be fine."  


I let my eyes close to try and regain some strength, still struggling to stay awake. Everything seemed silenced, all the noises reached my ears in a very different way than they normally would. I felt isolated from the whole world, absolutely alone, completely frightened. My mouth was dry, my body cold and aching but slightly numbed at the same time.  


I didn't have a real notion of how many minutes had passed; it felt like an eternity. I began to worry about Frankie. He hadn't been fine those last days, and what had just happened surely made things one hundred times worse for him. What if once at the main street he didn't know what to do? What if he walked into the traffic again? What if the police found him? I hadn't considered the perils, and now I wished that I hadn't sent him. My eyes filled with tears again, and the street hustle grew farther and farther.  


Then one sound among the rest became a little louder. _Just a little_ , enough for me to sharpen my ears to grasp it. Voices, two voices. I recognized one, it was Frank. _My_ Frankie. Somehow I managed to open my eyes again. There he was, in the company of a woman, both crouched by my side. She had a cellphone in her hand and was talking to someone.  


"Hold on, an ambulance is on its way," she told me. 

Frankie was rubbing his face with both hands, and I saw his lips move though I couldn't understand what he was saying. He wasn't looking at anything or anyone, just blankly into space.  


"Frankie? Th-the tag, show her the tag on your n-neck, Frankie..." I gasped. 

He snapped out of his trance and touched the woman's arm. "L-look," he pointed at the tag. She looked at it and took out her phone again.  


"F-frankie can't be al-alone." He sniffed and fell on my chest, hugging me, making me warm again.

"T-take care of him," I told the woman. I lifted my arm one more time, closing it around Frankie's shaking form, and then silence and darkness won over me.  


********  


I opened my eyes only to shut them close again, dazzled. I gave it a second try, this time slower. The intense whiteness that had made my eyes hurt didn't come from the light -which was rather dim- but from the walls surrounding me. The next thing my senses caught was the smell, antiseptic. That was enough to know that I was in a hospital. 

As I casted a panicked look at the needle connecting my right arm to the IV bag on a stand, I recalled what had happened. The fear, the pain, the blackness. My boyfriend's eyes. I was alive thanks to Frankie. He had done everything I instructed him and had gotten me help. I couldn't remember anything else after that last moment when I had closed my eyes feeling Frank's warm body against my cold one.   


Thoughtlessly, I tried to use both my arms to sit up on the bed. A piercing pain shot through my left one and I realised that I couldn't separate it from my body. Lifting the sheets, I saw that my limb was attached to my torso with bandages, a red stain next to my shoulder.  


"Oh fuck, damn motherfucker!" I cursed, lying back down. My stomach was also sore from the punches I had received.  


"Gerard! Oh my God, son, you're awake!" my mom -who was standing next to my bed- exclaimed. "How do you feel?"  


"Uh...everything fucking hurts, but fine I guess. What's the time?" I questioned. My mouth felt pasty and dry. She noticed and pressed a button that caused the bed's headboard to raise a little, then handed me a glass of water from the nearby table. I muttered a 'thanks', still waiting for her to answer my question.  


"10 am."  


"Wh-what? How...?" I didn't get it. The last time I had been conscious, it wasn't more than 5 pm.  


"It's Friday, honey. You've been out for 17 hours, you lost too much blood," she explicated.  


"Oh, fuck! What exactly happened? I mean, I know what happened but...how...hurt am I?"  


"Well..." She sighed, dragging a chair that was in a corner to my bedside and sitting down. 

"You don't have to worry, you're fine. Your main problem was blood loss, so a transfusion was needed. Then about your arm, you were shot in your shoulder. Luckily, no bone or important artery was hit, but they had to operate to remove the bullet and seal some blood vessels. The bullet was located on a muscle, that's why you might be in general pain for several days."  


"And when can I go home?" I hurried to question, not really meditating about the information she had given me. It was so natural for her -being a nurse- to talk about those subjects. I wasn't fond of them.  


"Gerard, you'll have to be patient. You just got here yesterday evening! I guess you'll have to stay for at least two days, if everything goes alright."  


"WHAT? I can't! I need to take care of Frankie!" I froze. "Oh my God, where's he? Is he fine? Those...those motherfuckers...one pushed him and kicked him, and they called him names and...I swear I wanted to do something but I couldn't! And I was also afraid they'd kill us both if I attempted to do something I...it's my fault. I got us into this"  


"Gerard, baby, you have to relax now, none of this was your fault. It's..."  


"Yes it _is_ my fault!" I lowered my voice. "Those guys... _they_ sent them, they told me to stop investigating. It...it was my fault, mom..."  


"Shh, we're not going to talk about that now, ok? It's done. Frankie and you are alive, that's all that matters." My mother kissed my forehead lovingly, and I was crying again.  


"I won't try to find out anything else, this time I mean it mom, _never again_."  


"I know."  


"Please tell me how Frankie is," I pleaded.  


"Frankie...he's fine. His back hurts a little, but nothing was really wrong with him physically. He was left pretty scared and nervous, though and..."  


"I need to see him, let me see him...please..." I sniffed. "As if I didn't love him enough already, that boy saved my life, mom! _He_ asked for help."  


"He did, Frankie's an amazing kid for sure." Mom smiled. "He's outside with Ray, your friend brought him as soon as he woke up. I'll go call them."  


She left and seconds later the door opened again. Ray entered the room with an arm around Frank's shoulders, who was walking very slowly, dragging his feet. Frankie smiled weakly when he saw me and tried to take quicker steps, but tripped and almost fell over.  


"Hey, easy, you'll get there the same." Ray held him. 

I used those seconds it took Frank to reach my side to look at him. He was wearing clean clothes -shorts and a sleeveless shirt- and everything matched, which told me that he hadn't dressed himself. His hair was well brushed and shiny, combed to one side and in a ponytail.  


"Hello baby, who did that to your hair?" I inquired, knowing that he had never liked his hair tied up. I preferred to speak of any random subject other than the last evening's event.  


"Uh...h-hii." he whispered.  


"He said it was too hot this morning, and he was sweating, that's why I tied his hair up. I think he looks good, actually." Ray rubbed Frank's back. "Do you wanna sit, Frankie?"  


"Babe?" I called him. 

He looked at me and his eyes looked different. Not only were they red and swollen because of so much crying; they were also glassy, sleepy, distant. He lifted a knee and tried to climb my bed, but his body didn't seem to respond very well.  


"Let me help you." Ray picked him up and placed him on the bed, by my unhurt side. Frankie crawled closer, staring into my eyes. He kissed my lips very softly and lied down facing me with his mouth semi opened, without saying a word.

"Ray, is he ok?" I asked. There was something abnormal about Frank, I could see it.  


"As fine as he could be after what he had to go through, I guess. He was extremely perturbed and nervous when I got there yesterday after that woman called me. The ambulance arrived at that same moment and they had to sedate him to be able to separate him from you. Once at the hospital, after we knew you'd be alright, I called Goldberg. The sedative had already ran out, and I was worried about Frankie. He was murmuring, trying to hit himself all the time, crying, screaming. We couldn't get him to actually notice us."  


"Oh baby, I'm so so sorry." I moved my arm so Frank could put his head on my chest, and I kissed it while my fingers played with his ponytail.  


"Goldberg was very helpful, he came here to see Frankie," Ray continued. "He said his condition had been aggravated due to stress and the traumatic experience. It might be only temporarily, though. He injected him with an increased dose of his medication and told us to keep it like that. One more pill per day, so that's one and a half each intake."  


"Oh, that's why he's kinda...zombified." I watched Frank's dreamy eyes.  


"Yeah, he's not very lucid, I know. Goldberg said he'll get a little better as his body gets used to the new dose. Right now it's necessary, he needs to be as serene as possible. The doc will be also seeing him once a week for some time. And he recommended not to force him to do anything, even the reading practice and all that, because it might be harder and it'd only frustrate him."  


"Well, babe, after all I doubted about your medication...it seems destiny decided, uh?" I caressed his face and he smiled more heartedly this time.  


"L-love you."  


"I love you too, my brave savior. Don't worry, I'll get better veeery soon and take care of you," I promised. I wasn't sure how much he remembered of the previous day and how much it had affected him, but I supposed that he'd need a lot of patience, a lot of love. Nothing I couldn't give him.  


"Gerard?" Ray drew my attention.  


"Yeah?"  


"I know it's maybe not the best moment, but if I don't say it I'll explode..." he paused and I frowned, intrigued.  


"Say what?"  


"About your 'investigation'... _I told you so_." 


	41. Chapter 41

_Lay beside me, tell me what they've done.  
Speak the words I wanna hear, to make my demons run.  
The door is locked now, but it's open if you're true.  
If you can understand the me, then I can understand the you._

Sure, 'I told you so' wasn't a line I wanted to hear from anyone; but I expected it, I _deserved_ it.  


"I know Ray, I know. I think that's the first thing I told myself as soon as those guys appeared," I responded tiredly. 

Frank tightened his grip on me, and Ray brought his index finger to his lips. "Gee..."  


"Yeah, you're right, not the moment," I whispered. "How did you do with Frankie last night? Did my mom take him with her? Oh but...no, you said he was with you this morning..." I rambled, just trying to find a slightly different subject.  


He caressed Frank's hair. "Goldberg thought that at least for the first night Frankie would be more comfortable in his own house, that he'd miss you less that way. So both Donna and I stayed there with him, only that she came to the hospital earlier this morning."   


"Where is she now?" I asked, noticing that my mother wasn't in the room anymore.  


"Oh, I finally talked her into going to the diner. Last night she didn't want to eat at all and today she left without having breakfast. Now that you're fine she has no excuse!"  


"Well, you can guess where my stubbornness comes from..." I laughed and regretted it right away as I was attacked by pain. Everything from my chest to my waist -minus my right arm- was aching. 

Ray saw me grimacing and flinched, alarmed. "Gerard...are you ok? Want me to call a nurse?"  


"No, it's fine. The pain is not that much if I stay quiet. I'll ask them to give me something later, I don't want to fall asleep just now. I already lost several hours of my life." I shook my head and again, that hurt. "Ouch!"  


"I...I'm h-hurting you?" Frankie questioned, looking up. He _did_ add more pressure on my sore chest, but at the same time it felt so good to have him close to me.  


"Not at all, babe." I continued to rub his neck.  


We remained like that for near an hour, Frankie dozing off every now and then while Ray and I did some small talk. The nurse came and added something to the IV line, assuring me that it wouldn't put me to sleep right away. Ray had told me that the girl was very nice to Frankie the night before, which became evident when, knowing the boy was there again, she brought him some orange juice and a pack of cookies. 

Accepting the food eagerly, Frank sat on the edge of the metallic bed. He gave Ray and me one cookie each and ate the rest without saying a word.  


"At least he seems to be hungry, uh?" I commented while Ray collected the crumbs from Frankie's lap on his hand.  


"Yep, and he had a complete breakfast at home! It must be the medication that's making him hungrier, not sure. Anyway, I guess it's a positive thing."  


"It sure is." I briefly kissed Frank's lips as he lied back with me.

He appeared to sleep for a good while -or at least his eyes were closed, but then he began to stir beside me, making me groan in pain.  


"Hey, Frankie...is something wrong, kid? Stay quiet, remember Gerard's hurt," Ray hushed him.  


"I'm fine." I forced a smile. "What's wrong, babe?"  


"Th-think I g-gotta pee."  


"That's it? I better take you now, then. We don't want any accident here, do we?" Ray tried to get Frankie out of the bed, but the boy resisted and hid his face against the pillow.  


"Why do you say that? Was there any 'accident' at home?"  


"Yeah...while asleep. Totally normal under the circumstances, I'm sure," Ray said. I realised that things might end up being a little harder than I thought.  


"It's understandable, of course. He was also given sedatives plus a higher dose of his meds last night, that could have added to his...not being able to control that," I voiced my reasoning. "It's fine Frankie, don't be ashamed. Now go with Ray."  


"N-no. W-wanna stay with y-you."  


"You'll have to go with him to the bathroom, you can't send your pee there by mail!" I tried to make him laugh, only gaining a weak smile.  


"D-don't want t-to."  


"Come on, it'll be quick." Ray made him sit. "Since you can't walk too fast I'll carry you and we'll get there sooner, ok? We'll be back here in no time."  


"K-kay," he simply replied, allowing Ray to lift him in his arms and leave the room.

I was _so_ sorry. I regretted everything so much. Wished with all my heart that time machines existed so I could go back and do things differently, _better_. I would have forgotten about Frank's past and just cared about giving him a good present, a promising future. It was too late for repentance, or I at least knew that I wouldn't get anything out of it. Yet I was still here to make things right from now on.  


Ray came back clutching the hand of a slow, pouting Frankie. I presumed that my friend's back had refused to do any more carrying. I was smirking at that thought when I suddenly discerned the obvious concern on Ray's face. My first impulse was to glance at Frankie, thinking that maybe they hadn't made it to the bathroom in time; but his pants didn't seem wet. 

My mother entered the room behind them and hugged Frankie, while Ray walked towards my bed.  


"Two guys from the police are out there," he murmured.  


"What? What the fuck do they want?"  


"You know...when someone's shot, the hospital reports it to the police. They only want to ask you some questions, routine," he replied. _Just what I needed_.  


"Oh fuck, whatever. Tell them to come in, the quicker this is done, the better."  


"Ok. But...have you thought of what you're gonna tell them? You can't..."  


"Yeah Ray, don't worry. I won't tell them the truth," I reassured him.  


"I just...don't think it'd be convenient. I hid your wallet before they rolled you into the ambulance, I'm sure nobody saw it. So you can tell them you were robbed."  


I assented. "Thanks, I'll do that then."   


When they were all going to leave the room, Frank began to scream, trying to get to me. "N-NO...W-WANNA STAY!"  


"Those men outside need to talk to Gerard for some minutes, Frankie. Then you'll be able to come back here," My mother spoke to him gently.  


"N-no...NO P-PLEASE LEMME S-STAY!" He was fully crying, although too sedated to fight.  


"Baby, I promise we'll come back," mom insisted.  


"N-no! I s-stay with him..." Frank sobbed, his legs failing him.  


"Mom, let him stay, arguing will only stress him more. Explain the situation to those guys," I pleaded.  


"Are you sure? Frankie will listen..."  


"I know, I'll try to avoid going into details. Maybe they won't bother me that much if Frankie's with me."  


"Ok." 

My mother helped Frankie sit back on the bed. He instantly clung to my stomach and I had to be strong to refrain from screaming in pain. He was still sobbing, but eventually calmed down as I let my hand run from his head to the small of his back in a slow motion.  


"Shhh, just try to sleep. I'm here."

Some minutes later, two middle-aged agents entered the room. One of them, slightly younger, seemed to be in a good physical shape. The other one presented a very prominent abdomen -probably because of too much free donuts and pizza- which made you wonder how he could run after criminals and actually _reach_ them if obliged to. I didn't mean to be scornful with my thinking, I wasn't exactly that thin myself; but my job didn't require me to be in line or somewhat athletic. _That_ was the difference.

I was mentally laughing -still amazed at how many weird, random ideas I was able to come up with in abnormal situations- when the pudgy man put his identification badge in front of my face. "Good morning, Mister Way." His voice was too high-pitched. Even more than Ray's, which meant _really_ high-pitched, _annoyingly_ so.  


"Good morning," I responded. The other cop followed the same procedure as both of them informed me of their names, but I didn't pay attention.  


"We were told that the kid was with you when you were attacked. Is that right?" the thin one asked, even though he had evidently learned the answer already. His voice, as opposed to the first guy's, was grave and solemn, which didn't make it any less annoying. Extremes were usually bad, specially in such an unamusing circumstance as I was.  


"Yes, he...he's my youngest brother. We were _both_ attacked actually, though luckily they didn't go that far with him," I said, hearing Frank whimper a little. "He's still very nervous, so I'll be thankful if we cut this short."  


"Will do. Your mother filled us in about the boy's situation, it'll only be a couple of questions. How many attackers were there? Do you remember something relevant about them?" big belly questioned. He took a deep breath and I was afraid that one of his shirt's buttons would eject and leave me blind.  


"Two, and all I know is that they were completely dressed in black, black suits. Also big sunglasses, so I couldn't see their faces; I didn't try much, honestly. One guy was big, the other one much smaller. I can't add anything else." I revealed the only true facts that I thought couldn't get me into any more trouble. Frankie was silent, but I could hear his heart beating faster and faster against my chest. He was hearing it all, and probably remembering.  


"Could you describe those men's actions?" the same cop inquired.  


"Is it necessary? I don't want to talk about it with my brother present." I had to be more careful than ever while in front of the law, even if calling Frankie my brother felt too unnatural to me. I hoped they wouldn't require to see his ID, though something told me my mother had taken care of that already. She was good with white lies.  


"It is, sorry."  


"Ok. They trapped us at the corner of that alley, and dragged us behind a dumpster. There was some pushing, kicking and punching....and lastly, before leaving, they...well, did the obvious to me," I related it as fast and simplified as I could, praying that it'd be enough. 

Frank's breathing was growing more agitated. "S-so s-scared..." he muttered.  


"I know, don't think about it." I kissed his head. Then I glared at the two police officers. "Are we over? He needs some peace, don't you see?"  


"Hey! No need to get aggressive, young man, we're helping here!" 'fit one' reprimanded me. If my good arm hadn't been holding Frank, I would have punched him. "Just one more thing. Do you have any idea of what the reason for the assault could be?"  


"Well, they stole my wallet and cellphone, so I guess you have your answer there. I'm sure they shot me to stop me from running for help soon after," I answered cockily and shrugged. Bad decision when you've been shot in the shoulder. "Awww, fuck!"  


"Wh-what? Y-you ok?" Frank asked groggily.  


"Yes. I'm fine, Frankie, I just made a bad movement and it hurt." I sent the men a killer look again.

They moved away from my side and talked to each other for a couple of minutes. I tried to hear what they were saying, but I could only catch loose fragments of the conversation: 'simple robbery', 'not the usual outfit', 'part of the sham' and 'the kid doesn't look alright' among other mentions. It didn't sound like they suspected that there was something else behind what happened to us.  


"Thanks for your help, mister Way. We'll let you know if we arrest anyone who could match your description. You can rest now, have a good day." the fatter one said before leaving. They gave the impression of having certain speeches engraved into their minds that they replayed over and over like a tape. It didn't make much sense in my case, what I had told them wasn't enough for them to get their hands on anyone.  


As soon as the policemen left, Ray and my mother returned to the room, anxious to know how it all had gone.  


"Fine, I think. They appeared to be satisfied with what I told them, didn't press farther," I told them.  


"Good. And how is he?" My mom pointed at Frankie.  


"I don't know," I lowered my voice since he had fallen asleep, calmer now that there were no unfamiliar voices."he got nervous every time we mentioned something about yesterday. The shock's still too recent I guess."  


"It is. These kind of things are hard for anyone, I imagine it must be even more so for someone who's not mentally stable." Ray took Frank's glasses off his face and placed them on the small table by the bed.  


"Yeah, I hope he'll forget about all this soon. It'd be easier if I could get the fuck outta here, though," I spat. I wasn't exactly in the best of moods.  


"You're not going anywhere, son. And Frankie doesn't only have _you_ , we'll all cope with this."  


"I know mom, it's just that...arrrgg! Why did I have to be such an idiot, uh?"  


"Stop that already, it won't help. You..." She was about to give me a lecture, but was thankfully interrupted by the nurse.  


"Sorry, but I was told that only one person can stay here for the moment. The rest will be able to visit him again later."  


I looked at my mother and Ray, then at Frankie who was peacefully sleeping on my chest. They got the hint and smiled.  


"Is there any problem if Frankie stays with Gerard like this?" Ray asked the brunette girl. She was pretty and very casual looking; her hair back in a short braid and no make-up on. Nothing like the slutty nurses you'd usually see in movies. Maybe I, like Frankie, had watched _too many_ movies.  


"Uh..." she doubted, scratching her head and contemplating the sleeping boy beside me. "Usually, this wouldn't be permitted but...I'll let him stay. If someone says something, tell them that Lissa gave you permission."  


"Are you sure it won't get you in trouble?" mom double-checked.  


"Nah, they'll understand."  


"Thank you." She patted the nurse's back.  


"Gee...I'm gonna go home for some hours and be back later," Ray announced. "Oh, and I talked to Bob, he'll come before the night. Same with Mikey and Alicia. They were here yesterday while you were asleep."  


"Ok!"  


"See you, take care and _behave_!"  


"As always Ray, as always," I ironically replied.  


"I'll be outside, honey. Stop talking and get some sleep!" mom waved.

I was finally left alone with Frankie and the curtains were shut, leaving the room in an appeasing dimness. I was starting to feel sleepy, so I decided to not fight against it anymore. Although I wasn't able to choose a different position, I tried to relax and get as comfortable as possible. My right arm was not in pain, but was now stiff from holding Frank for so long. I let it hang from the bed for a minute, feeling my fingers regain their circulation. Next I flexed it and wiggled my fingers repetitively, considering my limb recovered.  


At that moment Frank's hand reached back, seemingly searching for my arm, missing my embrace. I surrounded his shoulders again and he sighed, his face under my chin. I didn't mind whether it was comfortable or not, I could spend my whole life like that.  


******  


I couldn't tell what woke me up first, if it was the screams or the pain coursing through my torso as something moved violently against it. _Someone._  


"N-NO! N-NONONO...C-CAN'T...C-CAN'T DIE N-NO. P-PLEASE...D-DON'T LEAVE M-ME!" Frankie was crying out asleep. 

The room was luminous enough for me to see his eyes squeezed, his hands in a tight fist, his whole body tensioned as he twisted on the bed still half over my chest. I was too paralyzed by pain and fear, having been woken up like that and seeing Frankie so desperate. I wanted to speak, to do something, but I couldn't move.  


"G-GERARD...NO P-PLEASE! N-NO, AS-ASSHOLES!" tears managed to escape from his eyes. 

The lights went on and my mother came running in. "I heard the screams! What's wrong...? OH!" Probably seeing my painful expression she sped toward us and, pulling out extra strength from unknown sources, she picked up Frankie and took him away from me.  


While I tried to get over the pain, I watched my mother sit on the chair with Frank on her lap. He was sobbing loudly, arms flailing and legs kicking around.  


"Shh...Frankie, Frankie! Wake up, baby, wake up!" she spoke in his ear, caressing his messed up hair. He had lost the band that kept it tied up. "It was a dream, calm down."  


Frank opened his eyes big as plates, breathing heavily. He only registered my mother first, panicking once again. "N-NO...NO! B-BLOOD...L-LOTS...WH-WHERE'S GEE? WH-WHERE'S GEE, D-DONNA?" he shook my mother by her shirt.  


"Hey! Everything's fine, Frankie! Gerard's there, see?" She guided his head to where I was, and he seemed to pull himself together for a moment. He tried to get off my mom's lap, but she didn't let him. "No, you stay here a little longer until you feel better. Gerard won't escape."  


"N-no...lemme...s-so scared. S-so, so s-scared," he repeated, lost in himself. Mom held him close and rocked him. He hugged her waist and began to cry aloud. "Th-there was so m-much blood, _s-so_ much. An-and I t-touched him and...and b-blood was on my h-hands and G-gee...he d-didn't answer an-anymore. I c-called him and called h-him and n-nothing! And...and th-they t-took me away and g-gave me a shot and it h-hurt and...s-so scared. B-blood, on my h-hands, see?" he sobbed, raising his head and showing my mother his hands, both she and I crying with him. "S-see? T-TAKE IT AWAY! T-TAKE IT A-AWAY TAKE IT A-AWAY!"  


"Frankie," she held his face. "there's nothing on your hands, honey. Gerard's fine and you're fine, you just had a bad dream. Look at Gee, see him there? No blood."  


"N-no blood h-here?" he asked me, hands still extended and tears running freely.  


"No blood, and I'm fine." I smiled.  


"K-kay." He got into a zombie state, his eyes open but blind.  


"Bring him back here, mom."  


"Sure?"  


"Yes, he'll sleep now."  


"Ok." She carried him not that easily this time.  


"Here we are. And now that you know everything's ok, you better try to go back to sleep." I kissed his lips and he responded, still tearing and shaking all over. His trembling hand grabbed my face with desperation and he deepened the kiss. 

After that, he drew apart and stared at me blinking all the time; it was hard for him to focus from so close. "N-never die, k-kay?"  


"I promise," I replied, and with that his face fell back on my chest. 

My mother blew me a kiss, waved, and silently walked away.  


******

Long past midday, Lissa came into the room to change my bandages. It was good for her that I was already awake, otherwise she would have met my grumpy side; the boredom of being in that place had duplicated it. Frankie heard us talking and opened his eyes, peeping around confused. He still looked tired and his cheeks were tear stained.  


"Hi, Frankie! Sorry that we woke you up." The nurse petted his head affectionately. Frank turned to her and forced a smile, but didn't say a word. "Your mom told me that he had a bad dream..."  


"Yeah..." I nodded, brushing Frankie's hair with my fingers. She got the hint that I wouldn't talk about it in front of him.  


"Ok. Frankie, you're gonna have to get off the bed for a little while, so I'll have enough space to check Gerard's wound and change the bandages." Lissa attempted to separate him from me.  


"N-no."  


"Just a moment, baby," I whispered.  


"N-no," he repeated.  


"Is my mother still outside?" I asked her.  


"Yes, she is."  


"Then you should go get her, she's good at convincing him."  


"Alright!" The young girl did as I suggested and came back followed by my mom.  


"We have another case of stubbornness here?" mom singsonged playfully, tickling Frankie. 

However, he didn't react, he didn't even smile at all. Frank was worrying me more and more. I couldn't decipher which things about his behavior should be attributed to the increased medication, and which ones to the impact the attack had on him. Either way it was breaking my heart. My mother eyed me equally concerned.  


"Frankie, listen...Lissa's not going to hurt Gerard, all the contrary. She's gonna make sure his shoulder gets better. You can stay here, you only have to leave the bed for some minutes," she tried speaking to him in a soothing voice, as she rubbed circles on his back.  


"K-kay, but I s-stay," he answered, his face still immutable.  


"You stay, of course. Come on, I'll help you get up. Do it slowly so you don't get dizzy." She assisted Frank and made him sit up on the bed.  


He grabbed his head with both hands. "D-dizzy the s-same." 

Mom waited, supporting his back until he appeared to feel better. When she was going to get him off the bed, Frank pushed her away rudely.  


"Frankie! Mom's just helping you!" I scolded him.  


"I...I'm n-not leaving the b-bed."  


"Frankie..." she approached him again.  


"D-don't want."  


"It's ok, he can stay here," Lissa, extremely patient, changed her mind. "Just sit a little bit more to the end of the bed, Frankie."  


"K-kay." He moved along the bed in all fours and sat back.  


"I'm gonna go buy something to eat. What about McDonald's, kiddo?" my mother invited.  


"Y-yes! With l-lots of f-fries!" Frank cheered, finally showing enthusiasm. 

Lissa giggled at that. "I'm gonna bring Gerard his food in a little while, too."  


"W-wanna eat w-with Gee."  


"He'll have to eat the hospital's food for now, but you can eat yours here with him," the nurse assured.  


"Th-thanks. Y-you're nice."  


"Aww, you're nicer!"  


My mother left and Lissa began to do her job. It hurt a lot when she had to sit me up to get rid of the old bandages, but I did a great job hiding it. Frankie had put on his glasses and was monitoring everything; sitting indian style on the bed, his eyes following the nurse's movements carefully. I was afraid of how he might react if he thought that she was causing me pain. Even though he probably wouldn't go that far -being now more medicated- I knew what he was capable of. So I bit my tongue, breathed deeply, counted in my head, grasped the sheets and any other imaginable method to keep myself from yelling, crying or bitching. Lissa noticed and gave me some amused looks. 

Frankie didn't say anything and only kept staring with the most serious face. He suddenly gasped. "B-blood! H-he's bleeding, L-lissa! F-fucking bleeding, see?" he exclaimed terrified.  


"That's not blood, it's this." Lissa showed him a small bottle in her hands and made him look inside. "It's to disinfect wounds, keep them clean so they heal better. See that it's the same color as what Gerard has?"  


"Ahh. Y-yeah, I r-remember Grace put m-me that s-sometimes when I g-got hurt." He nodded. I _did_ have some blood mixed with that, but Frankie was better without knowing. I guessed _I_ preferred to think it was antiseptic too, not being exactly fond of blood myself. 

Lissa continued with the healing and Frankie became more curious than tense from then on. "C-can I help next t-time?"  


"Yep, next time I'll let you be my assistant," the girl approved.  


"G-good."  


Seeing that we were done, Frankie went back to his previous spot, but stayed sitting and began to run his fingers along my hair. He looked rather groggy and drugged up, his movements slow and sloppy. The scratches on his face had gotten darker, some with scabs, making his appearance more miserable. Still, he was beautiful to me. 

Besides all that, there was something else in his stare that I knew too well and hoped the nurse would ignore. As I saw him bend down, I placed my hand on his chest to stop him.  


"Are you dizzy again? Wanna lay down?" I randomly threw.  


"N-no, _h-hungry_."  


"Oh, talking about being hungry...I'm gonna go for your launch, Gerard. I'll be back soon." Lissa disappeared just in time before Frank's lips crashed on mine in a wet, messy kiss. I kept an eye on the door and complied, I had been needing that too much.


	42. Chapter 42

** CHAPTER 42 **

_But now I'm all smiles.  
the good little shots must be winning.  
Yes, they crank my dial,  
my motor is stalled, but my wheels are still spinning._

The mashed potatoes I was served at the hospital weren't that bad, I had to admit. However, as I watched Frankie devour his McDonald's meal over the tray Lissa had brought him, I couldn't help but envy him a little. I had always loved junk food and I could live on french fries and hamburgers.  


Frank ate as quickly as he had eaten the cookies earlier, and he didn't speak or even raise his eyes until he finished. After that, he whispered in my ear that he needed to go to the bathroom again, so the nurse took him outside for my mother to escort him. Several minutes passed by until they came back; probably because Frankie walked very slowly and she couldn't carry him like Ray would. 

I understood that the change in the medication was needed, but that didn't stop me from feeling sad about him. He moved like in slow motion, and apart from when he was angry or scared, he barely talked. I was already missing my hyper boyfriend, though I knew that I'd have to be patient. He was still too shocked after what had happened to us and would need time to get over it. We'd both need time.  


Frankie padded into the room and climbed back on the bed with Lissa's help. Then he kissed my cheek and snuggled against me. "I...I'm s-sleepy," he said in a shaky little voice.  


"Sleep, kiddo, I'm gonna do the same." Once again I placed his glasses on the bedside table, and rubbed his back for as long as I managed to stay conscious.  


Later when we woke up, I thought of something that could help distract Frankie and hopefully cheer him up. I could accept him being quiet, but he was too straight-faced for my liking. Looking for conversation, I ended up relating anecdotes from my childhood. I listed my favorite toys, told him about the games Mikey and I would play, some of our mischiefs and adventures and how we'd stand by each other at school. Frank listened with sincere interest, his head on the pillow and his eyes set on me. Nevertheless, he didn't do more than smile faintly and ask a couple of shy questions.

All of a sudden the door opened and in stepped Mikey, Bob and Alicia. While the boys came to greet me -filling me with questions- Alicia sat beside Frankie and he got up to hug her.  


"Guys...I can't tell you about it here, Frankie gets too nervous when I mention what happened, you know? I'll recount everything once I'm out. But yeah, it _had_ to do with that...stuff I was into," I cryptically told Mikey and Bob to fill in some of their curiosity.  


"Damn, bro! You're always the same..."  


"... _stubborn bitch_ , I know. That's what Ray told me, too," I completed my brother's line.  


"Well, if everybody calls you that it must be because you _are_ one!" Bob laughed. "Is the kid hurt?"  


"No, he hit his back but nothing serious," I whispered. "It's more about the shock it caused him."  


"Poor little thing...but here's Super Bob to cheer you guys up!" He patted Frank's leg, who was still curled up in Alicia's arms.  


"Are you ok, Frankie?" she asked him.  


"Y-yeah."  


"Sure?"  


"Y-yes, fine," he replied in the same lifeless tone. Alicia looked at me with questioning eyes.  


"His doc told us to increase his medication, that's why he's so quiet."  


"Oh, ok," she muttered, seemingly feeling the same sympathy I felt for him at the moment. It hurt to see him so...lackluster.  


"What..." she made Frankie look at her and frowned. "...what happened to his face? Did _they_ do it?"  


"No...it was before, he scratched himself with his nails."  


"N-no I d-didn't," Frankie stated. "Th-they did."  


"They...who? Gerard said that..." Alicia was now rather confused.  


"Th-the little p-people. B-but they d-disappeared now. M-must feel bad f-for what they d-did to me."  


"Ahh! I bet they must, then." She kissed his head.  


"If those little bastards do something like that again you have to tell me, kid. Super Bob will kick their asses!" Bob performed a super hero pose in front of Frankie, making him laugh for the first time that day. I was going to complain that he shouldn't foment Frank's idea, but upon hearing his laughter I refrained. Besides, I had done the same with the imaginary climbing plant.  


"Sure you're fine, Gee?" Mikey asked for the tenth time. He wasn't speaking much and just kept staring at me with that dramatic expression.  


"Yes, Mikey. I'm sore all over, sure, but I'm ok. Relax! You're not gonna get rid of your big brother so easily."  


"Shut the fuck up, Gerard! That joke's not funny, I almost had a heart attack when Ray called," he expressed louder. 

I could notice that Mikey was holding back the tears. He would not cry in front of us, _of course not_. Sometimes I wished he let his feelings show a little more. That he allowed himself to cry if needed instead of bitching at the reason that had caused that need. But that's how Michael Way was, and I loved my brother.  


"I'm sorry Mikey, I'm so sorry for frightening you. Trust me, I'll be fine." I took his hand in mine and he nodded, slowly withdrawing it right away. He retired to a corner and as he searched for something in his pocket I knew what he was going to do. He would dry the tears before we could see them.

"Y-you kay, M-mikey?" Frankie called. He had been leaning on Alicia -who had her arms around his waist- and watching it all in silence.  


"Yes, Frankie." He walked back towards the bed. "I just have a cold. Oh! I brought you a lollipop now that I remember. Want it?"  


"Y-yeah. I al-always want l-lollipops," Frank answered a lot less thrilled that he would usually be.  


"Let's see! Al told me strawberry is your favorite." Mikey rummaged through his small backpack until he found the candy. "I'll unwrap it for you...here you are."  


"Th-thanks." Frank began to lick the lollipop and seemed to become absentminded again. 

Alicia had to do something about it. "Did I tell you today what a pretty boy you are? I don't think I did! Well, you're very very pretty and cute," she spoke to Frankie in a foolish way, making him giggle.  


I shook my head. "Al...he's 18, not 2. Don't treat him like a baby!"  


"I don't treat him _like a baby_. I treat him like the sweet, little boy he is, just like everybody else does." She stuck out her tongue.  


"You're worse."  


"Yeah love, Gerard's right. You act like a spoiling grandma!" Mikey added.  


"Seems that they're all against you, girl," Bob chimed in. "I'll be good and won't comment on the matter. I don't know you enough to give my opinion, anyway."  


"Thanks, Bob."  


"Oh, but you'll soon be convinced that Alicia _is_ like a spoiling grandma and...you know those aunts who pinch your cheeks every time they see you? Both put together," I joked.  


"Oh my God! And add a fangirl to the mix!" Mikey cracked up, hitting his knees with his palms. As we all conversed and laughed, Frankie looked from one to another like in a tennis match.  


"Oh! That's what you two Ways think?" Alicia faked irritation. "Then we'll ask the interested one. Frankie, does the way I treat you bother you or make you feel bad?"  


"N-no, I l-like it. Y-you're like G-Grace, only m-much younger. Yes."  


"Oh, my. Ok, if my boyfriend loves to be treated like a baby, then I won't object anymore." I chuckled. 

Everybody laughed and I joined them; that moment had turned into the brightest of the day.  


We continued to talk about any random subject we could think of, our chat now and then interrupted by silent gaps. I could sense that the three of them had a lot of doubts, worries, and thoughts they needed to vent; but they knew that they couldn't with Frank present. 

Bob did a great job filling those voids, when all of us would exchange glances thinking of a good next issue to discuss. He was a real clown, bringing up topics like: 'Don't you think Super Bob has a bigger amount of awesomeness lately?' I firmly believed that reading so many comic books was fucking up his brain, but at times like that some healthy insanity was welcomed. 

Even if he was still quiet and looking permanently sleepy, Frankie's eyes had regained some shine and laughter escaped again from those pink lips. Mikey also did his best to entertain him, punishing me at the same time. He considered that it would be a good idea to tell Frankie some embarrassing facts about me, like how I used to run and dance around the house naked or just in my underwear to piss our mom off.  


"Why don't you confess that you joined me many times?" I teased him.  


"Not true!" he got defensive.  


"Skinny little Mikey running around naked? Oh man, that must have been a _very_ funny view!" Bob laughed grabbing his stomach.  


"You shut up! Gerard's lying!"  


"Are you sure, honey?" Alicia inquired, pretty amused.  


"G-gee don't l-lie!" Frank declared with a finger in the air.  


"Of course I don't! This is the pure truth!"  


"It's _not_!" Mikey insisted, though it _was_ true and I was certain that he did remember.  


"It is! Only, Bob, that Mikey wasn't _that_ skinny back then." I'd been trying not to laugh much because it was painful, yet I was having such a good time that I didn't give a damn anymore.  


"Shut the fuck up!"  


"Shh, Mikes! _You_ lower your voice. This is a hospital, boy!" I grinned.  


"You son of a bi...hi mom!" Mikey's rage dissolved in a second when he suddenly saw our mother enter the room, and he displayed a perfect angelic face.  


"You _do_ know this isn't a recreative place, right? I could hear you gabbling and laughing from the corridor. You better quiet down if you don't wanna be kicked out," she reprimanded us, her eyes instantly falling on Frankie who was blinking at her numbly from Alicia's lap. "Frankie, Frankie. You're surrounded by four grown-ups and none of them was capable of noticing that you've been without your glasses all this time!"  


"Oh...f-forgot." He looked down.  


"It's ok, baby, _they_ should have remembered." She gave him a hug after sliding the glasses on his nose.  


"I didn't think it was necessary, he was just lying here listening to us, mom," I alleged. It appeared that nerves and tiredness had also gotten the worst out of her.  


"I thought that if he didn't have them on, it was because you were all ok with that..." Alicia said, followed by Bob and Mikey's 'same here'.  


"You know that as long as he's awake he _needs_ to wear them. I understand it's easy to forget among Frank's other problems and all the things that have happened lately, but his sight issues are serious too," she replied.  


"I know, sorry, I can't think straight yet. Don't be so hard, mom!" I protested.  


"Damn..." she sighed. "Excuse me, son. I practically haven't slept and the waiting room's chairs are destroying my back. Guess I overreacted. It's just that...you might be Frank's boyfriend, but I'm still the one who plays the _mom_ here." She smiled as she pronounced that word, demonstrating that she already felt Frankie as her son. 

The boy moved away from Alicia and beckoned for my mother, throwing himself into her arms as soon as she got nearer. "L-love when you're l-like my m-mom."  


******  


Bob and Alicia left half an hour later. Mikey insisted on staying with me the whole night, even though I -and the doctor- had assured him that it wasn't necessary. My mother was still outside waiting for Ray to come drive her and Frankie to our house, and Frank was sitting on the bed looking at a magazine mom had bought him. It only contained pictures of animals and insects with little to no information below, so he wouldn't have to stress about understanding anything. Once in a while he emitted sounds of admiration and shoved the magazine in my face to show me something.  


At one point my mom entered the room to give Frankie his meds. It was a little earlier than usual, but we were hoping that once they kicked in it would be easier to convince him to go home. He had been glued to me the whole day, so we knew it could be a difficult task.

 By the time Ray arrived Frankie was still awake, although he didn't register much of what was happening around him. One moment he'd be lying next to me, and the next one he'd be sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the wall or eying the magazine without paying real attention. I had tried talking to him, but he either answered with monosyllables or smiled childishly. He didn't seem bothered, weirded out, or annoyed by the state he was in, as if it was totally normal for him. And I guessed it was; he had spend practically his whole life in institutions after all. I had hoped to never need to have Frankie drugged up like they'd do there, which was what made me feel worse. Now I was praying that it wouldn't have to be like this forever.  


"Ready to go home, Frankie?" Ray approached him. 

The boy quickly lifted his face from his reading. "Uh...wh-what?"  


"We're going home so you can shower, have dinner, and sleep more comfortably," Ray explained. 

Frank first began to move his head slowly from side to side, gradually accelerating until he was shaking it violently.  


"Hey, babe...calm down," I managed to sit up -thanks to the painkillers- and I held him from behind. 

He stopped and looked at me. "D-don't wanna go h-home," he whined.  


"I know, but you have to. You've been here the whole day, you need to rest better. I'm fine, you'll see me again tomorrow, I promise."  


"B-but I always s-sleep with y-you."  


"You slept with Donna last night," Ray reminded him. "you know how much she loves you too."  


"Y-yeah...but Gee's my b-boyfriend. I w-wanna sleep with h-him." He pouted. In spite of my cavils, it was evident that the new dose of medication had started to have its good effects. Frankie was still refusing to go, but he was arguing peacefully which was surely a change.  


"Puppy also misses you a lot, he told me so today," my friend tried.  


"P-puppy doesn't s-speak and...and I ex-explained to him th-that I had to t-take care of G-gee."  


"Listen, love." I placed my hand on his cheek, caressing his damaged skin with my thumb. "Nothing's going to happen to me, Mikey will be here. You know how I need to stay at the hospital a little more to get better?"  


"Y-yeah."  


"And you know about the problem you have in your head?"  


He nodded. "Y-yes, I'm ill _th-there_ , and th-that's why I'm s-special."   


"Well, that problem in your head got a little worse lately, for that reason Goldberg said you needed more pills. You also need to be calm and rest well at home to get better." I got closer and our foreheads touched. I kissed his lips and he took some seconds to respond. After kissing back he stared at me sorrowful. "You understand, baby?"  


"Y-yes."  


"So...I think we should both be good boys and do what our doctors recommended to get better. What do you say?" I questioned. Frank remained silent, looking around while a few tears rolled down his cheeks. He finally hugged me, making me jump from pain.  


"Not so tight, Frankie, Gerard's hurt!" Ray stopped him.  


"S-sorry."  


"So, are you gonna be a good boy like me?" I repeated the question.  


"Y-yes, I w-wanna be b-better too. B-but tomorrow I c-come here again," he requested, arms crossed over his chest.  


"I'll bring you here tomorrow morning, _uncle_ Ray gives you his word," Ray promised.  


"K-kay, then. I'll m-miss you, Gee," Frank murmured.  


"I'll miss you too, prettiness! Do what Ray and Donna say, ok?"  


"K-kay"

Ray went outside to give us some privacy, which we spent melted in a close embrace. We kissed enough for our mouths to memorize the feeling of the other's lips and for our brains to retain it.  


"Are you done yet?" Ray joked.  


"Yes, for now!" I was glad that Frankie and I had reached an agreement, I hated when we had to employ force with him. It felt extremely cruel.  


"You think you can walk, Frankie?"  


"'C-course I can w-walk, Ray," he replied offended.  


"I'm not that sure..." I mumbled. 

Ray helped him out of the bed and made him stand on the floor, yet holding him. Frank swayed and went pale, and we thought that he was going to swoon. He laid his head on Ray's chest and stayed like that for about a minute.  


"Are you okay, Frankie?" I questioned worried.  


"Y-yeah, better. R-ray...carry me? L-legs feel w-weird."  


"Of course." 

Ray left the room with Frankie in his arms, but motioned for me to wait. He came back only seconds later and closed the door behind him.  

"I left him with Donna because I need to tell you something before I leave."   


"What's wrong, Ray? Don't scare me more!"  


"Oh no, it's nothing bad really. While I was in your house feeding Puppy, Grace called."  


"Fuck! I'd completely forgotten that I never got to tell her what I found out. Well, I couldn't even if I'd wanted to...save _she_ called _me_."  


"She said they were full of work, many new patients that gave her a lot of trouble."  


"What did you tell her? Oh, God! Now that I think of it...those fuckers might have...hacked my phone or however you call it when they do that!" I panicked.  


"Maybe the judge's phone was 'hacked' and they got to you through him...but anyway, I thought of that too. I let Grace know that you were at the hospital due to something related to that situation, so I preferred not to talk about it by phone. She was fucking worried about you and Frankie and begged me to at least tell her how you were doing. And most important...she bought a cellphone and gave me her number, so now you can call her."  


"Oh, better! I guess I can inform her that way, and tell her to stay away from it all. But Ray...my house phone's not safe and my cellphone..." I doubted, paranoid again.  


"I'll lend you mine when you're back home. And yes, _please_ , make sure Grace doesn't do anything either, it was enough with you."  


"I will, now I know what those guys are capable of."  


"Ok, that's all. See you tomorrow morning, Gee. I'll tell Mikey to come in."  


"Good night Ray, and tell Frankie I love him."  


 Ray laughed. "You think he doesn't have it clear yet?"   


"You just _do_!"  


"Ok, ok! Love..." He rolled his eyes. Ray _really_ needed a girl.  


******

As days went bye Frank got even quieter, but we at least didn't need to get into a fight every time we wanted him to do something. He was less combative, which was a good thing.  


I was still in pain, but it was mostly my shoulder and arm, and not my whole upper body like during the first two days. It was a tolerable pain as long as I didn't try to move my arm -a pointless attempt since it was still fastened to my torso- or have Frank squeezing me.

The previous day had been very similar to the one before: Frank had spent the whole time with me and Lissa had spoiled him with cookies and juice. The nurse had also let him help change my bandages as she had promised. Frankie kept the gauze in place while she wrapped the white cloth around my body, and even told her that he wanted to be a nurse when he grew up.  
******

I was soon released after they gave me a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers, and Ray drove us home. When we got there, instead of helping me out, my mother told me to wait. What the fuck? There was nothing I wanted more than to finally be in my house, in my own bed cuddling with Frankie.  


"What do I have to wait for, mom? I'm tired, I need my bed!"  


"I'll only go for Puppy and his things, then we'll go home," she semi screamed, as she was already heading towards the house.  


"WHAT THE FUCK!" I fully shouted, startling Frankie. "Sorry, baby but...Ray...what did she mean with 'home' if she's not letting us out?"  


"W-wanna get in t-too," Frankie groaned.  


"Well Gerard, use your brain. Do you think you're in the right condition to take care of the house, Frankie, Puppy and yourself? I don't think so."  


"Oh, fuck..."  


"Your mom will try to work less, but she still has to do it, and I can only be here half a day. So we thought it'll be better if you three stay at your old house for some weeks. This way you'll always have someone to help you since Mikey and Alicia are having some days off from college."  


"Can't they come here?" I grunted.  


"You don't have room for them to stay. Why make them travel here every day when you can just stay there and stop being so grumpy?"  


"Ok, fine! I'll stay there!"  


"W-we're staying with D-donna? C-cool!" Frankie cheered. At least one of us was happy.  


"What about _my_ things?"  


"They're in the trunk, I picked them up earlier."  


"My cigarettes?"  


"Yeah, saw a pack and threw it in too. I thought you didn't smoke anymore?" Ray turned to me frowning.  


"Only sometimes, and I'm afraid I'll need it."  


"I d-don't like the s-smell. Eww." Frankie wrinkled his nose.  


"Don't worry babe, I won't smoke in front of you."  


"Back! Here's your doggie, Frankie!" Mom handed him his pet.  


"I told Gerard what we decided," Ray snickered.  


"Oh! That's why he has that face!"  


" _One week_! One fucking week and not more than that!" I announced. They ignored me.  


I hated the idea of living under my mother's rules again, and specially now that I was with Frankie. I knew that she would be controlling everything we did and constantly finding failures in the way I acted with him. That's how most mothers were, and now she was Frank's mom as much as she was mine. In addition, moms become even more of a nuisance when their kids are hurt or ill. And I was not to forget that Alicia would be fangirling over Frankie the whole week and Mikey just complaining because it was his favorite sport.

As I thought about all that -lost in my bad mood- time flew by and we were already in my old neighborhood.  


"Oh, joy! The week from hell has begun!" 


	43. Chapter 43

_I'm taking my ride with destiny,  
willing to play my part.  
Living with painful memories,  
loving with all my heart._

Still slow but feeling steadier, Frank walked from the car to the house with Ray following close just in case. My mom insisted on helping me, no matter how many times I told her my legs were perfectly fine.  


She kissed my cheek. "You better go sleep, son...or to bed at least."   


"Ok," I grumbled. I was tired and kinda weak after all, and my terrible mood didn't make me feel like being in anyone's company other than Frankie's. I headed straight for my old room, but my mother stopped me.  


"I set up my room for you, I'll sleep in yours, or on the couch. You'll be more comfortable on the double-sized bed, specially knowing Frankie will want to sleep with you as always. Oh, and the mattress is wrapped in plastic, so it won't be a major problem if there's...wetness." She smiled.  


"Thanks." I gave her a one-arm hug, feeling a little guilty for acting like an asshole; she was only caring for us. 

As I turned to leave, Frankie entwined his fingers with mine, silently shuffling behind me.  


"Not you, Frankie! You come with me and I'll make you some milk with cookies first," mom told him. 

He looked at both of us, pensive. "L-later. H-have to take c-care of Gee n-now."  


"Aww babe, I'll be fine. Go with Donna and when you're done you can come join me."  


"N-no."  


"You haven't eaten anything since breakfast, boy," my mother added.  


"Y-yes, Lissa g-gave me c-cookies."  


"That's true, she did." I laughed. "He always seems to find someone to spoil him."  


"Oh, but those were not _homemade_ cookies," mom pointed out. "It's not the same! Come on..."  


"N-no, later."  


"Alright." She sighed. "But I'll go for you in an hour or so."  


"K-kay."  


"Don't worry mom, once you have it all ready he won't refuse. Frankie's been unable to decline food these last days." I laughed as we walked towards the bedroom.  


Getting on the bed with such caution proved to be pointless. As soon as my body touched the mattress Frankie landed on me clumsily. It hurt a lot, but for an instant I forgot about that to look at him. His cloudy eyes stared back at me like hypnotized. Once again I was assaulted by that doubt about whether he had too many things in his mind or it had gone completely blank. I couldn't tell, I couldn't read him at that moment. 

Wanting to break the awkwardness, I slapped his ass playfully. He shuddered -a not less weird reaction- and then smiled. Still clambered on me, he crept forward and kissed me. I tried to follow the kiss, but the pain in my shoulder made it impossible for me to concentrate. As much as I loved to have Frankie like that, it hurt significantly. However, I knew I'd have to be careful not to hurt his feelings. He shouldn't feel rejected.  


"Frankie, you know I love you very much and I really like to be this close to you, but my shoulder hurts a little. Would you move to the side? It's a huge bed so there's no need to be piled up!" I intended to be funny so it wouldn't be so harsh. 

I was relieved to hear Frankie laugh and roll off me, lying down to my right like he had learned to do at the hospital. Deep inside I was hating myself and my damn shoulder because, leaving the pain aside, I was enjoying the position in which we were. Luckily, my lower body hadn't reflected my enjoyment.  


I faced Frank and kissed him all over the face before getting to his lips, his eyes already closing. He had been sleeping a lot and even when he wasn't, he looked sleepy nevertheless.  


"Sweet dreams," I whispered.  


I woke up several hours later, realising how much I had missed sleeping on a real bed. It was already night and Frankie wasn't there with me. After a visit to the bathroom, I made my way through the house searching for him. I found him drawing on the kitchen's table, Alicia sitting in front of him.  


"Hi, Gerard! How are you?"  


"Hi, Al. I'm fine, I guess. I'd just want to get rid of these bandages, they're more annoying than the wound itself," I said. Having my arm stuck to my chest as if they were one piece was driving me crazy.  


"Oh, maybe you can take them off and hang your arm from a handkerchief instead. We'll ask your mom."  


"Yes, please! Anything will be better."  


"Men...all sissies." She rolled her eyes. 

Frank hadn't turned to see me, so I got on my knees in front of him. He still kept his eyes on the paper.  


"How are you feeling, Frankie?"  


"F-fine," he answered in a very low voice. He was abstracted by his task and I noticed that his mouth was semi open, a thin trail of drool running down his chin.  


That image broke my heart. It was too similar to how I'd always pictured patients in mental institutions; just like I had seen them in movies. Yet this was _Frankie_ , _my_ Frankie and he was with me. Something _had_ to be wrong for me to think of that. 

"Oh, baby..."  I kissed his head and, ignoring whatever Alicia was telling me, I went to find a tissue.  

"...he took his pills like an hour ago. I didn't see that he was drooling again, sorry," she went on while I gently rubbed the tissue over Frank's mouth.  


"Sure you're fine, baby? Tell me the truth," I asked him again. 

Just then my mother entered the room. "Gerard, stop asking him that every five seconds. The kid's fine. We had some chocolate with cookies together, watched TV and now he's drawing here with Alicia as you can see. Just because he's quiet it doesn't mean that he's not fine, son!" she said. 

I gave her an 'are you kidding me?' look. "He's not _just_ quiet. Don't you see that...argg nevermind." I gave up. I knew that no one would be on my side in this case. I chose not to fight with my mother -since that was the last thing Frankie needed- and sat on the chair next to my boyfriend.  


"Where's Puppy?" I questioned.  


"H-he...at the p-patio playing with the l-leaves. I'll p-play later."  


"It's fine, you could fall down if you went now. What have you been doing? Can I see?"  


"I d-drewed her," he pointed at my brother's girlfriend.  


"He's good!" Alicia handed me the drawing. Though his style was simple and infantile he was, indeed, good at it. Even if he only drew stick figures, he always added details that made it easy to guess who was who. The hair, the clothes, the attitudes.

I smiled looking at what he had drawn this time. The Alicia on the paper had a huge smile, so huge that it didn't fit her face. She seemed to be dressed in the same way as the real one, or at least the colors were very similar. A caption cloud above her read 'awww', and she was hugging somebody who was shorter than her. You could only see that other person's back; but the messy, long, dark brown hair showed that it was Frankie. At the bottom of the paper he had written _'Alisia'_ with big letters.  


"This is so cute, Frankie!" I told him. 

Mikey's head popped up from behind me, spying the drawing. "Good work, Frankie! You portrayed Al as the annoying fangirl she is!"  


"Shut up, Mikey. You heard Frankie when he said he likes the way I treat him."  


"Sure, sure. That's what he _says_." My brother chuckled. "Only one thing, boy. See here? _Alicia_ is with a 'c', not an 's'."  


"Ah." Frank stared at the sheet.  


"Michael! Leave Frankie alone!" mom intervened. 

Mikey frowned. "I just thought it'd be a good thing to tell him so he can learn, what's wrong with it? Jeez, mom!"  


"Really...I think it's ok," I supported my brother. "I often correct him when he says or writes a word wrong, too. It's a way to help him get better at it."  


"I understand that, but Goldberg said we shouldn't press him at the moment," she argued.  


"I didn't _press_ him, it wasn't a big deal. It's not like I made him figure out what was wrong by himself, I just told him the right way to write it!" Mikey continued, not willing to let her win. He hated when she exaggerated. 

Not knowing what else to say to sustain her point of view, our mother left irritated.  


Without a word, Frankie snatched the drawing from me and took the rubber. He erased the 's' and replaced it with a 'c', showing it to Mikey. "O-okay now, M-Mikey?"  


"It's perfect!" he answered. 

Frank smiled satisfied and returned to what he was currently working on.  


I observed him; and as he applied more pressure with the black pencil to make the hair look darker I knew it was me. What caught my attention was the fact that the figure wasn't smiling like the ones Frankie would usually draw. This character's mouth was a straight line. He was having trouble giving the picture the last touches since his hands had started to shake. It had gotten worse lately and sometimes his legs also trembled, though fortunately it hadn't been very noticeable or frequent so far. 

That was another reason for me to hate that medication, but it was the best one I could afford -which reminded me that my father's watch was still at the pawn shop with no possibility of being recovered any time soon. Anyway, talking about side effects, not even the most expensive meds were much better from what I had been told. Grace had assured me that the ones Frankie was taking now, even being slightly cheaper, were among the best ones. My only conclusion was that I'd have to get used to how things were and put up with the problems. I had seen Frank without medication, and _that_ was real suffering for him.  


Frankie suddenly threw the black pencil across the table rather rudely and took hold of the red one. At first, he painted a red spot on my stick version's shoulder. Alicia, Mikey and I all looked at each other, but waited. Then he remarked the strokes, making the spot bigger and bigger to end up just tracing red lines all through the drawing while sniffing softly. He moved his hand faster and faster, his lips pressed together so tight that they went white. Without speaking, I detained him and I retrieved the pencil from his grasp giving it to Alicia, who hid it in her pocket.  


"Would you give me an extra hand? Just hold the paper in place," I instructed her.  


Taking care not to touch the main image, I passed the rubber over the red lines trying to make them disappear as much as possible. Frankie stared, sobbing. I knew that I couldn't fix it perfectly, for color pencils are hard to erase; but I hoped Frank would get the idea, the meaning behind what I was doing. Holding the black pencil I retouched some parts of the little Gerard-guy that had been left blurry. Instead of the straight line on his face -which I had purposely erased- I drew a smile.

Frank wasn't crying so loudly anymore, but I could hear him hiccup. I produced another tissue to dry his tears and wipe his nose and mouth, then placed my hand on his chin, pushing his face up.  


"There's _no_ blood. Look at me. No blood, baby."  


"B-but there w-was and...and it can c-come back. Y-yes, can," he muttered.  


"No, it can't and it won't. There's no more blood. I'm fine. I'm smiling because I'm with you and we're both alive and we love each other. So no more sad drawings, ok?"  


"K-kay," he assented. 

I kissed him and when he kissed back we both cried, but I knew those tears were tears of love. Tears of relief because in spite of all and besides the fear and the pain, we still had each other.  


We were still kissing lazily, with wet faces and a strong need for mutual support, when I heard Mikey cough. "Uh...don't mind me, too late," he said, looking past us. 

He confused the shit out of me. I was about to curse at him, but my mother magically showing up explained it all. Mikey was trying to warn us.  


"Gerard, let the boy breathe."  


"Donna...I don't think Frankie is complaining." Alicia giggled.  


"I _do_ think they're going too fast. I try to get used to it, it's just that...Frankie's like a kid!"  


"But he's _not_ , mom." Mikey got up and touched her shoulder. "When it comes to certain things, your _new youngest kid_ is like any other teenager."  


I was pleased to have Mikey defend us, though I couldn't help noticing the tone in which he said 'new youngest kid'. He was jealous, even if he was trying to hide it. As if we didn't have enough problems, now my little brother was jealous because he wasn't mom's baby anymore.

Our mother just sighed. "Still...Gerard, slow down."   


"B-but I like to k-kiss Gee and...and I l-like when we t-touch and also wh-when we..." I covered Frank's mouth before he went too far, sending my mom an apologetic, embarrassed look. 

"Mom, you know me. Do I need to tell you again that I'd never do anything that Frankie doesn't want to?"  Withdrawing my hand, I gave my boyfriend one more short kiss.   


Mom shook her head 'no' and disappeared. I was certain that she trusted me, she just needed time to digest our relationship. It wasn't so much about me, it was more about Frankie. She had to assimilate the idea that he wasn't a child.

"Well, what about you draw something nice and happy now?" I suggested Frank.  


"Y-yeah, kay," He agreed. He grabbed a pencil and tried to start, but his hand would not stay still. He held that hand with his other one with the intention of controlling it but of course, they were both shaking equally badly. "C-can't." he pouted. "It...it's g-gonna be ug-ugly like th-this."  


"Come here." I made him sit on my knee and took his right hand firmly in mine. "What do you wanna draw?"  


"A h-house."  


"Ok, leave your arm loose, I'll guide you."

Not without difficulty, I led Frankie's hand across the paper and drew everything he requested. After the house it was a tree, tall and with profuse foliage. Then came big mountains, cottony clouds, birds flying everywhere, an enormous smiling sun and a little spotted dog.  


"Y-you draw so p-pretty," Frank breathed out.  


"Nope, _you_ drew this, it was _your_ hand!"  


"N-no I didn't. I th-think my h-hands move like th-this 'cause...'c-cause they don't w-wanna do what I t-tell them. Th-they're mean and d-don't like me. G-gonna buy n-new ones. Y-yes." 

We all laughed at his witticism, but he didn't; he had spoken seriously. It was sometimes hard to know whether he was joking or really _believing_ what he was saying. It was the second option this time.  


"Your hands do like you, how could they not? You're the most likeable person ever! The shaking is because of the meds, remember? And you can't buy hands, baby."  


"Y-yes you can. Y-you buy th-them in a hand sh-shop."  


"There's no such thing as a hand shop, Frankie," Mikey said still laughing.  


"Y-yes, th-there is. Y-you go and ch-choose the hands you l-like." 

"Ok, next time we go out you show me where it is," I proposed. Even hearing him talk nonsense was a lot better than having him lethargic and silent.  


"K-kay."

After dinner, I decided that I needed a shower. I hadn't had a real one in more than three days. I knew that my mother would say it was too soon, so I locked myself in the bedroom and cut the exasperating bandages off, leaving only the gauze over the wound. My arm felt even more sore after being freed, but I could at least move it a little from the elbow down. Next I covered the gauze with a piece of plastic bag and fastened it with duct tape. Once ready, I went to search for underwear and clean pajamas. I was doing this when someone knocked at the door.  


"Who is it?" I asked, fairly sure of the answer I'd get. I was wrong , though.  


"F-frankie."  


"Wait a second, babe." I opened the door and he shuffled into the room, looking around.  


"Wh-what you d-doing?"  


"I was gonna take a shower."  


"M-me too, then." He slowly walked to his bag and got on his knees to look for clean clothes, just like I was doing.

"Mom! Gonna go take a shower!" I called once out of the room. Bad move. 

She came to us in no time, looking concerned. "Oh, Gerard...you sure you can? Maybe you shouldn't get the wound wet yet..."  


"I already took care of that, it won't get wet. And I'll be careful."  


"Guess it's fine, then. But...how are you gonna do to...?"  


"Mom...I have _two_ arms. I can perfectly wash myself with my right one. Please, I'll be fine!" I tried to spare me any more objections.  


"Ok..."  


"G-gonna shower t-too," Frankie announced.  


"Nonono, if you wanna shower you wait until he finishes."  


"W-we always sh-shower together," Frankie commented, my mother only now finding out about it. 

Her glare let me know that she didn't like it at all. I was thankful that she saved her opinion for another moment. "Now you can't. It's gonna be more difficult for Gerard to take a bath using only one arm, and he needs more space to be comfortable. Besides, you've been dizzy and he can't help you properly. It's dangerous," she explained to Frankie. However, I knew that wasn't the real reason for her negative, or it wasn't the _only_ one. She just hated the idea of Frankie and me being naked together and alone. I did understand her; that's why I didn't complain anymore and told Frankie to do as she said. But I was getting sick and tired of all that.  


******  


Two days later I was already desperate, exhausted. Frankie was a complete zombie half of the time. He wasn't exactly too animated the other half, but he at least moved and spoke a little more and had somewhat normal reactions. He'd not had any more crisis or panic attacks related to my shooting while awake, although he sometimes got very agitated in his sleep. He twisted, turned, whimpered and even screamed about blood before waking up frightened. During the last night he had peed the bed again. We all acted as if it was completely normal, behaving as naturally as possible because we didn't want Frank to feel worse than he already did. He always cried every time it happened, saying he was too old to do that  


My mother and I didn't seem to agree on anything. She complained if I helped Frank eat, but also disapproved if I let him do it with his hands or in any way he could manage. I didn't know if she was out of her mind, or I was too out of mine to understand her.  


As expected, she didn't allow us to take a shower together, no matter how much Frankie begged for it. While he showered, mom sat and waited inside the bathroom to be near in case he needed something. The previous afternoon she had even bathed him, since Frank was too out of it to do it himself. It was no big deal for her, being a nurse and having raised two sons. Frankie didn't seem ashamed either and I imagined that Grace probably used to bathe him on some occasions.  


Anyhow, as much as I strove to be understanding with my mother, I was enraged. I missed those moments together that Frankie and I always shared at home a lot. We hardly had any privacy there with my mother in the middle. Thankfully, her days off were over. She'd be still working fewer hours than usual, but that would give us some Donna-less time.  


Alicia practically lived with us. She only went to her house to sleep, though I knew that would change that night with my mother being out working. Al was truly annoying sometimes, but on the other hand she helped me a lot with Frankie and was the only one who shared my way of thinking. I had to accept, against my will, that I was happy to have her there. 

Mikey was just...Mikey.  


******  


I got up from my nap, fighting to fix the bandana holding my arm in a way that it wouldn't fuck up my neck. The first thing I encountered in my way to the kitchen, was my brother complaining to me about Frankie.  


"Could you tell your little freak to get off of my bed? I tried to talk him into it, but he started to say things that made no sense. I have no fucking idea what he's talking about! I thought he was medicated?"  


"First, don't fucking call him a freak. Second, Mikey, the medication only suppresses or reduces some symptoms, it can't fucking repair his brain. It's normal for him to say things that make no sense once in a while. In those cases you only have to play along, say yes or just nod. Or, if you wanna be nicer -which I doubt coming from you- you could ask him a question including any random word he mentioned and let him answer. He usually feels satisfied if he gets someone's attention," I nearly growled my lecture. 

Mikey wasn't intimidated. "Ok, ok, very interesting. But now _you_ do something. I want to study on my bed and I'm not in the mood for this."  


"Fine, you...lazy assholish fucker."  


"And also make sure that the dog stays out of my room. I like dogs, but not _on my pillow_ , you know?" he screamed. Puppy was used to doing that, and I wasn't going to change his habits for a week.  


"Oh, shut up already!"

I found Frank sitting on Mikey's bed looking up. When I got closer, I noticed that he was holding scissors as if they were a knife, absently running them over his other arm. He hadn't caused any damage yet.  


"Fucking Mikey! Didn't he see the most important matter here?" I said to myself. "Frankie, baby...you know you can't play with these things."  


"Uh?" He loosened his hand when he heard me and I easily rescued the scissors. "I w-wasn't playing. J-just had th-them."  


"The same, you're better off not touching them."  


"K-kay."  


"What were you looking at?"  


"W-was waiting," he mumbled.  


"Waiting for what?"  


"Th-the Martian p-plant. I...I th-think it'll come here, b-but now I s-sleep in a mom's r-room and...and the p-plant won't look f-for me in a m-mom's room. N-no boyfriends r-room here. B-but...but Mikey's a b-boy and has a g-girlfriend, m-maybe it's the same and it'll c-come here,' he rambled.  


"I'm sure the plant can find you in any room. Come on, Mikey needs his bed now."  


"H-have to wait. Y-yes..." Frank looked suddenly absent, astray. He kept speaking but the words didn't match each other anymore. "M-maybe...yeah walls and s-sideways and th-they can't s-see. B-but I do. L-last time w-was not."  


"Yes, I know," I replied. "But we'll go watch TV now. You can't sit here waiting for the plant, if it comes we'll smell the oranges."  


"Y-you're right. Y-yes." He got up and followed me out of the room.

"Frankie, I need to ask you something again, just don't tell Donna that I did, ok?"  


"K-kay." He nodded. "S-secret."  


"Tell me the truth: have you been feeling fine lately?"  


"Y-yes, I'm f-fine. M-my head's a little s-sleepy," he told me, strangely grinning.  


"And that's not bad?"  


"N-no...kinda f-funny. It...it's b-bad when it's a m-mess. Y-yeah, too b-bad. N-now it's not."  


"Did your head feel like this when you lived at the institution?" I asked. He clearly took things much better than I did.  


"Y-yes. I...I d-don't like when I'm d-dizzy but...it's on-only sometimes wh-when I get up."  


"Ok, that's all baby. If something was wrong or you felt bad you should tell me."  


"K-kay," he answered as he grabbed the remote control and turned the TV on. 

I needed to stop worrying so much and understand once and for all that Frankie was used to psychiatric medication and all that came with it.  


We were still flicking through the channels, trying to find something good enough to watch, when Ray arrived. "Hello, boys! I have the night off so thought of paying you a visit and...yeah, Gerard. I'll let you use my cellphone," he read my expression. Every time we talked that week, I'd reminded him that I needed to call Grace and told him not to forget his phone when he came.  


"R-ray!" Frankie hugged him. "S-saw my plant? D-didn't appear here y-yet."  


"See your plant? What...?" Ray saw me grab my head. "Bad day?"  


"Frankie? Nah, he's a saint. Too much so, lately," I responded, distracted.  


"I meant _you_."  


"I'm ok, just wanna go home, my family is pissing me off."  


"S-saw my al-alien plant or n-not?" Frank insisted.  


"I didn't, but I'll be alert and tell you if I do," Ray told him smiling.  


"D-dunno if you'll s-see it. M-maybe not."  


"It'll let me see it because it knows I'm your friend."  


"Ahh, k-kay."  


"Gerard," Ray addressed me again. "Take it easy, it'll pass. Here you have the phone, go call somewhere else and I'll stay here with Frankie."  


"Thanks, I'll be back in a while."

The first time I dialed Grace's number, I barely got to tell her who was calling. She said that she was in the middle of chaos -which seemed evident by the screams that could be heard- and she'd call me back in fifteen minutes or so. I was going to return to the living room, then opted for staying there, lying on my old bed with my mind blank for once. No thinking, no worrying, no stressing. I just closed my eyes and shut down my brain. That, until Iron Maiden's music startled me -Ray was as much of a fan as me- and I picked up the phone in a hurry.

"Hello...Grace?"  


"Yes, things are calmer now. How are you, Gerard?"  


"I'm fine, still sore but it wasn't serious."  


"God, boy! Of course it was serious, just the fact that it could have been worse makes it serious. And the terrible moment you and Frankie had to go through! Are you sure it had to do with Frank's mother and all that? When your friend told me what had happened I felt really bad, because in some way I encouraged you to investigate, I told you to call the judge..."  


"Oh no, Grace. It's not your fault, I was already obsessed with trying to find out. And yes, I'm sure what happened had to do with it, sadly."  


"I still feel responsible, I never thought that the people involved could be _that_ dangerous! I should have...Can you tell me how things exactly were? I've been deadly worried."  


And again I recalled everything that had occurred that unfortunate afternoon, painfully putting it into words for Grace. She was shocked and kept apologizing while I kept repeating that it wasn't her fault at all; it had been all mine.  


I told her how Frankie was and the changes that had issued after that episode. About the meds, she said that he was usually on that same dose while there, though once in a while they'd reduce it temporarily -or raise it, if they wrongly thought it necessary. They had been using a different medication during the last couple of years, but the components where very similar.  


"Frankie will be fine, Gerard. Be patient, he's a strong boy."  


"Yeah, he's stronger than me for sure."  


"I'm sure everybody told you the same thing already but...forget about Frank's past and family. Just take care of my sweet kid and enjoy your life together," Grace whispered. She must be hiding from someone. "Sorry...my boss was in sight, he left now. Promise you'll do that?"  


"I do, I promise. I have Frank with me, I don't care about that money or anything else."  


"That's great. Could I talk to Frankie?" she requested what I had been fearing.

Frankie and I had made some progress in our relationship since the last time he talked to Grace, and I wasn't sure if she was going to like it. I knew she would ask Frankie lots of questions related to our...sexual life; and Frankie would always be honest. The mere idea was making me feel uncomfortable, exposed. However I couldn't refuse to let her talk to Frankie or come up with any excuses. That would make it seem as if I had something to hide.  


"Of course, just a minute." 


	44. Chapter 44

_When you walk you walk higher than the others,  
when you talk you talk merciless the bothering truth.  
Everyone seems remote-controlled nowadays,  
only you have a frequency far beyond their ways._

Ray noticed my nervousness when I handed the phone to Frank. He guided the boy to my mother's bedroom, pushing me out and closing the door.  


"But Ray..."  


"No but's Gerard, let him talk to Grace in peace."  


"But...to leave him alone there? Don't you think...?"  


"He'll be fine. There's nothing dangerous in that room and he'll only be speaking on the phone. But his safety's not what is worrying you now, is it?" Ray asked me as we entered the kitchen.  


"I don't know what you mean."  


"Yes, you know what I mean. Gerard..." he made me sit down. "...do you regret something you did with Frank? Do you think you did something wrong?"

I cradled my head in my hands and thought of the last intimate situations between Frankie and me. I didn't recall the actions themselves and instead remembered the emotions. What I felt, what I knew Frank was feeling judging by his facial expressions and his reactions. Those details had been engraved in my mind much deeper than the visual memories. It wasn't about what we had touched or how we had moved, it was all about what it'd made us feel.  


"No," I stated shortly. "I did nothing wrong, we did nothing wrong, and I'm sure Frankie agrees."  


"Then what's your problem?"  


"She's gonna interrogate him, Ray! _I_ know how things were and _Frankie_ knows how things were but...what if Grace thinks of it differently and gets mad at me?" I hit the table furiously, the sudden jolt reverberating through my body and reaching my injured shoulder. "FUCK!"  


"Gee, did you...?" Ray doubted, and I understood what he was implying.  


"No! We didn't..." I realised I was rising my voice too much. "...we didn't have sex, of course not! We just, uh...you know how we now take showers together? Well we...he..."  


"No...please, Gerard, I don't want details," Ray interrupted me. "From how you answered my first questions I'm sure you did things the right way. Frankie will tell the truth, don't worry."  


"Still! Frankie must be confessing everything to her now, it's...it's so weird. Like...things that should be kept private are being...publicized!"  


"Stop with the exaggeration, will you? It's only normal for Grace to do that considering Frank's condition, and even more having in mind that he was once...well, practically raped. That boy John could have not known what he was doing, but that didn't change anything for Frank. Or for Grace when she found out. Just imagine how she must have felt...Frankie's like her son!"  


"I know! I fucking know! But I can't get rid of this discomfort!" I got up and stomped to the fridge, fuming as soon as I opened it and looked inside.  


"MIKEY! MIKEY FUCKING WAY!"  


My brother came running. "Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you?"   


"Where's the damn beer? I know that you, Alicia and your friends all drink when you get together here."  


"Gerard d-" Ray tried to speak, but I motioned for him to wait.  


"Are you kidding me, Gerard?" Mikey said.  


"No. I'm asking you where the damn beer is."  


"Look, we sure drink some beer once in a while, but it's not like we _need_ it, it's not a must. You expected us to stock the fridge full of beer just before bringing you boys here? What's gotten into your rotten head to make you think that your own family would have alcohol within easy reach for you? And...while you're taking pain killers! Are you sure those guys didn't kick your head? Shit! Even Frankie would reason better than you!" he spat at me, forcing me back onto the chair.  


"I don't wanna get drunk, I just want a damn beer! And don't fucking mock Frankie!"  


"I'm not. I'm mocking _you_ , you're an idiot. Make yourself a fucking tea and calm the fuck down." He left without looking back.  


"Oh...wow. I guess I made my little bro _really_ mad." I sighed, slightly shaking.  


"Do I need to answer that?" Ray chuckled. "I'll make you that tea, seems like a good idea. Are you ok, Gee? Gee? Where did you go now?"  


"Couch!" I shouted. I took the pack of cigarettes I had left over a shelf and sat sprawled on the padded surface. My crippled arm's hand held the stick while my other one operated the lighter, switching hands right after. 

The first inhalation seemed strange, out of custom. For some reason I had rarely smoked since I found Frankie. Only in a few occasions when I'd be too anxious, usually while not at home. No one understood how I had managed that when I was, at the same time, struggling to keep myself away from alcohol. I didn't have an answer, I just wouldn't feel the need to smoke. I had never been a big smoker, anyway.  


So, this being my first cig in weeks, my body proved to be more sensitive to it. I could sense the noxious smoke making its way inch by inch until it got to my lungs. It filled them; and as I slowly released the whitish fume my muscles gradually relaxed, my hands became steady again. I regained control of my body and my mind. I hated how something so unhealthy could make me feel better, I didn't want to depend on it. It was for that same reason that I'd tried so hard to put a stop to my drinking problem before it became even worse. However, the circumstances had brought me the need to indulge in some kind of vice; and smoking seemed the lesser damage in the short run. If it kept me from leaving the house in search for alcohol, then I could live with it.  


The fag shortened, ash accumulated on the ceramic tray before me, Frank's voice could be heard now and then from down the corridor. Only random, louder exclamations. Nothing that could suggest what was happening, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. 

Ray brought me my tea and I thanked him with a smile and a nod, but continued to suck the life out of that tubular, thin object between my fingers. I knew that he had stayed, that he had taken a seat on the smaller couch. I knew he was observing me, worrying about me, wondering what I was thinking. But my eyes were closed and I waited, smoking.  


As Frankie was barefoot, I didn't hear him shuffle toward us. I hadn't even heard him open the bedroom's door. He sat indian style beside me and gave me Ray's phone, smiling sweetly. His eyes were reddened, and he was still drying some tears with the back of his hand. I guessed he and Grace hadn't only talked about our relationship.  


"Hello?" I spoke on the cellphone. No one answered. "Did you press any button, Frankie?" I asked him. He shook his head. "Grace's not on the line anymore..."  


"N-nope."  


"Didn't she want to talk to me?"  


"Sh-she had to go w-work. S-said she'll c-call you on your ph-phone," Frankie told me. 

I partly felt relieved for not having to listen to whatever Grace thought; but it wasn't that good to be left with the doubt. "Didn't she say anything else?"  


"Uh...y-yes. Sh-she said...she s-said...she t-told me to t-tell you to...to k-keep behaving, th-that!"  


"Oh, ok. Thanks, baby." It didn't sound so bad. If she said 'keep' behaving, that meant that she thought I had been behaving so far. _Or so I hoped._  


"D-don't like that s-smell. S-smoke sucks, s-stop." Frankie brought me back from my thoughts, trying to steal the cigarette from my hand.  


"Alright, wait, let me put it out." I pressed the stub against the tray, watching its light die. "Done." I kissed Frank's lips.  


"N-no ewww, s-smells."  


"The kid's the anti-vice patrol." Ray laughed.  


"He is! Wait a minute, Frankie." I went to brush my teeth and then returned to my quiet boyfriend. "Come here." I patted my lap.  


"I...I'm g-gonna make you h-hurt."  


"No you won't, here, that's ok." I made him lean on the right side of my chest.  


"Gee, ain't it time for his meds?" Ray reminded me. 

I looked at the clock on the wall. "Oh, shit, yes. Just when I..."  


Ray detained my attempts at getting up. "Nah, stay there, I'll go for them."   


"Thank you, savior Ray! The can of candy is over the right counter."  


While Frankie gulped down the tricky candy, I remembered how I had been told by many people that it was usually pretty hard to make mental patients take their pills. We could considered ourselves lucky because Frankie had rarely given us any trouble with it. It was all about administering the medication in the way he liked it. Right now I felt like it was an abuse to give him more pills when he was already so appeased, but I had given up on arguing.  


"Would you tell me something, babe?" I took the chance to talk to him before he became knocked out.  


"Wh-what?"  


"I know you probably told Grace all that we did. Wasn't she angry?"  


"C-can't tell you wh-what we talked. G-grace says it's a s-secret," Frankie whispered as if the woman could hear him.  


"It's fine, you don't have to tell me what you talked, just answer that little question. Was she angry?"  


"Gerard, enough," Ray mumbled from the magazine he was reading. 

I didn't reply. Frankie also stayed silent, playing with my hair.  


"N-no she w-wasn't angry," he finally said. "'C-cause I told h-her I l-liked all we d-did." He neared his mouth to my ear and added something more in that sudden seductive voice I had been missing. "I...I l-liked it very m-much."  


Ray jumped from his couch and stared at Frank thunderstruck. "What the...Frankie? _Little Frankie_?" He had never heard him do that. 

I smiled to myself, thinking that now my friend surely believed _everything_ I'd told him about Frankie.  


"Wh-what?" Frank asked innocently.  


"Oh, nothing, don't mind me."  


******  


"Is your mom coming home for dinner?" Ray questioned later.  


"No, she's working tonight, so she'll eat there. Was really sorry for not being able to be here and make dinner. That woman's been a cooking machine this week, she says Frankie and I need to have some more homemade meals."  


"Poor Donna is always worried because you eat too much junk food." Ray laughed.  


"That's not true, I've learned a lot of cooking these last months. You know that I prefer Frankie to eat healthy too," I retorted.  


"I know, and I've told her, but she's not that convinced. I'm amazed that she didn't leave something prepared tonight."  


"Oh, she wanted to! But Mikey and I told her to go take a nap before leaving, since she wouldn't be getting much sleep later." I chuckled, checking to see if Frankie was listening; but he wasn't. He was still on my lap and his eyes were glued to the TV screen. His glasses were somewhat lowered, and from above I could see his long, dark eyelashes flickering. I didn't think he was paying real attention to the cartoon, more like watching the images move. Sometimes he appeared to sleep with open eyes.

"You were right, uh? He's not always the innocent little kid." Ray nodded towards Frankie, knowing that he would not register our conversation.  


"I _knew_ you didn't believe me! How would I lie about that, Ray?"  


"I didn't think you were _lying_ , I thought you had maybe imagined it. Still not sure if Frank knows what he's doing when he does...that," he said.  


"He _does_ know, I can tell you. He may have taken that from the movies he's seen, or maybe it's just natural; but he can definitely be...well, sexy." I grinned at Ray and kissed the top of Frankie's head. He let out a sigh, but still didn't move.  


"Uh...still not relating those kind of words to him! Let's change the subject?" Ray scratched his scalp uncomfortably.

It was understandable. Even though he was -like me- only five years older than Frank, he truly felt like his 'uncle Ray' and saw him like a kid. He was conscious that Frank was my boyfriend and therefore mature enough in some aspects; but he acted like a child the rest of time which confused him.

"Ok, what do you want to talk about?" I stifled a laugh.  


"Food. I'm hungry, I say..."  


"...pizza."  


"How did you now?" he asked frowning.  


"Come on! What else could you come up with? You often brag about being a good cook, but then when you're with me you always want to order pizza!" I accused him.  


"Oh, don't complain. I'll cook you a meal next time, I promise. Too tired today so...pizza?"  


"Y-yeah pizza," Frankie spoke for the first time in more than an hour, yet he kept on looking at the TV. "L-like it, and I d-don't need f-fork. E-easier, yes."  


"Pizza, then," I gave in. I loved it too anyway. Plus, that way I would not need to tell anyone to cut my meal for me, which I hated.  


******

Dinner time was weird and kind of tense. Mikey was mad at me for 'yelling and being a general asshole' -according to Alicia. I was angry at him for making a big thing out of nothing. So we basically ignored each other. Alicia kept nudging us, encouraging us to apologize; but we could be two complete stubborn bastards when we wanted. _And proud of it._ Ray tried to converse a little with each, showing no favoritism. I was sure that he wanted to kick both our asses. Frankie was lost on his plate, having no knowledge of the silent battle taking place at the same table. He had, at first, grabbed a portion of pizza as everyone else; but he kept on dropping it when he'd get absentminded. Then he opted for leaving it down, taking little pieces out of it with his fingers. That didn't stop him from eating more than the rest of us, though.  


And that's how the whole week proceeded, each day similar to the previous one. Mikey and I made up only to have a new argument some hours later. I guessed we just weren't mean to live together anymore, and Mikey was definitely not prepared to live with Frankie. He did try, he was being a lot more patient and admitted Frank was much less annoying than before; but even with the best of intentions Mikey didn't know how to deal with him most of the time. Nevertheless, he never screamed at Frankie or treated him bad again, all the contrary he was rather sweet with him. When something about Frank bothered him or confused him, he'd just come to me. I did appreciate that, although my brother had a way of saying things that didn't get along with my edgy mood.

My mother continued to overprotect Frankie and to always be in the middle whenever we were getting close. Also, she never stopped asking me if I was fine and if my shoulder still hurt. It did hurt, but it had turned into a bearable pain, even when I didn't take any painkillers. In those last days, I had smoked more than I did in four months; but at least that had kept my craving for alcohol under control. I was careful not to smoke in front of Frankie, since he had made it clear how much he hated it.

To say it shortly, I was waiting desperately for that week to end. Unfortunately, there was one more obligation to face before that happened: Frankie had an appointment for a medical checkup on Friday. _Friday had arrived._

We needed to be there at 10. Frankie had taken his meds not long ago so he was pretty off, just following whatever we said. Hopefully that would be a positive thing in this case and he'd be a good boy with the doctor. Still, I had a different worry. Even though Frank seemed to be healthy, I was afraid that the doctor might find that something else was wrong with him. He didn't need any more problems.

Neglecting my protests about entrusting him my car, Mikey drove Frank, my mother and me to the small hospital.  


"Call me when you're done, I don't wanna bore myself to death waiting here," he told us. 

I saw my car disappear along the street and cursed under my breath.  


"What's wrong with you now?" mom asked.  


"Nothing."  


"Come on, cheer up or you're gonna scare Frankie."  


"Yeah, sorry mom," I apologized, taking Frankie's hand. "Let's go, babe."  


"K-kay," he whispered and began to walk slowly beside me.  


"You know why we came here?" I questioned him.  


"N-no. D-don't want you to s-stay here."  


"What do you mean, Frankie?" my mother inquired.  


"L-like he did at the o-other place."  


"Oh...the hospital where Gee stayed at when he got hurt?"  


"Y-yeah."  


"No baby, we didn't come here to leave Gerard! We came for a doctor to see you," she explained.  


"B-but...but I d-don't want t-to. I...I'm not h-hurt."  


"No, you're not. He's just going to check that you're strong and healthy. Don't worry, it'll be very simple and not painful at all. Donna works here, so everybody will be very nice to you." I tried to keep him calm. He didn't really look nervous, but that could be just the meds inhibiting him from showing it.  


"K-kay," he answered. It was so unlike him to not argue at all that I missed his old self. I knew it wasn't very normal of me to miss that part, but I did.  


We only waited for fifteen minutes before the doctor called us -privileges of being one of the hospital's favorite nurses' relatives. I had seen that doctor many times when visiting my mother there. He was around 50, of average height and had a thick, black mane spattered with white hairs. His name was William and he was a pediatrician, but my mother thought Frankie would feel more comfortable with him. 

William seemed to be a nice man. He greeted us all with a smile and then stopped in front of Frankie. "So...this is the famous Frankie, uh? Donna speaks a lot about you," he commented. Frankie cowered behind me.  


"It's ok, Frankie. He's Donna's friend."  


"Yes, she's the best nurse around," the man added.  


"Oh, thanks!" my mother smiled. For a moment I thought I saw some special interest in her look, but I shrugged it off. 

Frank showed himself again shyly and offered his hand for William to shake it.  


"That's better. Nice to meet you Frankie, I'm William."  


"H-hi."  


"Well, I already have all the information I need to have in mind," the doctor informed us. My mom had talked to him a couple of weeks before and filled him in about Frank and the medication he took. "You can wait outside. Donna, I'll call you if it's necessary."  


"Ok," she replied. "Frankie's rather sedated at this hour, so I don't think you'll have any problem with him. But if you do just...ask for help."  


"N-no...Gee! S-stay!" Frank reached out for me.  


"Do what William says, Frankie, you'll be fine. We'll be behind this door."  


"K-kay, assholes."  


"Frankie!" my mother exclaimed, blushing. William and I just laughed, Frankie eying us confusedly.  


"Let's go outside, Gerard," mom mumbled.

******  


"Son, can you please stop walking in circles and sit down? William's not killing Frankie in there. You know that, right?" We had been in the waiting room for at least 10 minutes and she had gotten tired of my pacing.  


"Yes. But what if something's wrong with him, something _else_!" I moved my hands tensely while talking.  


"Gerard, I'm sure whatever the doctor might find is gonna be completely normal under the circumstances; and it's all treatable. What's more, you shouldn't worry before time, since there's a big possibility that _nothing_ is wrong at all."  


"You think?"  


"I do, relax. Don't you think Grace would have told you if Frankie had another health problem?"  


"I guess, but who knows, maybe she didn't want to scare me and..."  


"Everything will be fine." She got up to hug me and I followed her back to the seat, snuggling against her. Those were the moments when my mom did make me feel more serene.  


More minutes -that felt eternal- went by until William opened the door and asked her to come in. She was going to be the one to take the blood sample, which was the part of the exam that concerned me the most. Frank hated shots and now, after the incident, he got also terrified when thinking of blood.  


"Can I go in too?" I requested.  


"Of course," the doctor assented.  


"How did you find him?" I needed to know right away. In the meantime, my mother headed towards a little table in a corner, preparing a syringe.  


"He appears to be healthy, there's nothing too out of normal for a psychiatric patient. There could be a certain grade of anemia, which we'll know for sure in about an hour with the test. Then, his heartbeat is slightly accelerated, but it's not enough to be considered an arrhythmia. It may be due to the nerves from being here, or that he's still recovering from a strong shock. I'll check that again in a couple of weeks just in case, but you should pay attention. If you see him too agitated with no reason or having problems breathing, bring him here."  


"What?! But...could it be serious?" I blurted out, alarmed. I hated doctors, I hated them all.  


"Calm down, Gerard. I don't think it's serious, it's most probably nothing. But since antipsychotics can cause those kind of irregularities it's better to be alert," the doc answered with that same annoying tranquility.  


"Anything else?"  


"Not so far. As I said, we should wait an hour for the basic test results. Then I'll send the blood to be further analyzed. It's advisable because we don't have access to Frankie's medical record."  


"Oh, ok. Sorry for being so insistent," I muttered ashamed. The idea of them looking deeper into Frank's blood terrified me.  


"Wh-what blood? Wh-where? N-no, no m-more blood, you s-said, Gee." Frankie suddenly reacted upon hearing that word. 

William walked to the examination stretcher where he was sitting. "Look, Frankie. To be sure that everything's right with you, we need a little bit of your blood. Just a little." I almost screamed when I heard the doctor tell Frank the truth. Terrible idea.    


"N-NO! I...I d-don't wanna b-bleed, don't w-wanna see b-blood!" Frankie whimpered.  


"Shh, no. You won't bleed. Donna's going to do it, you know she wouldn't cause you any pain. And I promise that you won't see the blood. Right, Donna?" he asked her.  


"You won't see a drop of it!"  


"B-but how you d-do it?"  


"Don't be scared. It'll be like a shot but..."  


"N-no shots!"  


"Let me finish, it's _like_ a shot, but I won't inject you with anything. It won't hurt, really. Do you trust me?" my mother grabbed Frank's face and caressed it.  


"Y-yes."  


"Ok, then. Let's do it quickly, don't look," she instructed him. 

I held him with his face against my chest. He was trembling, but didn't try to escape. Just in case that Frankie suddenly turned his head and looked, my mother had covered the syringe with white tape. She had enough experience to know when it was enough without having to see. She found the vein, carefully inserted the needle and pulled. I couldn't believe that I was still watching and didn't feel like fainting. I didn't want to abuse of my second of braveness, though, so I buried my face into Frank's hair and inhaled the strawberry scent.  


"Uh..." he voiced.  


"What, Frankie? Does it hurt?"  


"N-no...feels w-weird."  


"Almost done....and...done!" my mother announced, but Frank still didn't dare look. She pressed a cotton ball against the puncture and finally applied a band-aid over it.  


"You can look now." I whispered in Frankie's ear.  


"Oh! It...it has b-butterflies!" he pointed at the band-aid.  


"Yes, I knew you like them." Mom kissed his cheek. "Oh...Will, I was going to ask you about his weight. He's been eating a lot more since the dosage change, do you think we should control that?"  


"Certain medications make patients hungrier sometimes. But I measured and weighed him and he's only a few pounds over his, let's say...ideal weight. It's nothing to worry about for the moment, just take care that he gets normal portions of mostly healthy food. That should be enough."  


"Oh, ok. I think Frank's perfect the way he is, but it's always good to have a professional opinion," I said, realising that my adoration for Frankie might have sounded too evident.

******  


Frank slept for nearly the whole hour that we waited for the first results of the blood test. They only found -as William had suspected- that he was slightly anemic. As a result, the doctor prescribed him a complex of vitamins. He recommended it in the powder form, which could be easily incorporated into food or beverages so he wouldn't have to take any extra pills.  


When I didn't speak for a while, my mother presumed that I was thinking about the costs, and asked me to let her pay for that. I swallowed my pride and agreed, I certainly needed some help in that area.

And that was all for the day. About the in-depth blood test, they'd notify my mom as soon as the results were back from the lab, but it could take some time.  


After phoning Mikey and knowing that he was on his way to pick us up, we left the hospital. 

When we were about to get into the car, I got distracted by a toy shop on the corner. I made my way to it and stood in front of the window, hand in hand with Frankie.  


"L-look, so c-cute." He signaled several carebears exhibited over a shelf, each one with its name below.  


"Cheerbear," I read the bold, back letters under one of the bears; the pink one, with a rainbow on its belly. "Just like you, you're my Frankie cheerbear."  


"I...I'm n-not pink and...and d-don't have any r-rainbow here!" He lifted his t-shirt giggling.  


"No, but you're cuddly and cheer up my life," I told him. 

He smiled one of those giant smiles of his. I heard Mikey complaining and my mother telling him to shut up. I blocked it all and walked into the shop with Frankie.  


 _Don't stop being crazy.  
Wherever you go,  
don't stop being crazy.  
It's a lie,  
It's a lie,  
It's a lie we could not learn to fly.  
Oh no, don't stop being crazy. _  


	45. Chapter 45

_I used to feel your fire,  
but now it's cold inside  
And you're back on the street  
like you didn't miss a beat, yeah._   


Unwillingly, I consented to stay at my mother's house until Monday instead of leaving on Sunday as I'd first wanted. Their countless attempts at talking me into waiting a whole more week had obviously failed. No way I'd sacrifice my freedom and my and Frankie's privacy in exchange for motherly care, as much as I appreciated it. I loved my mother, but the price to pay was getting too high for me. I considered that I was ready to do things on my own. Though my shoulder still hurt, I was able to move my arm well enough and I would be fine as long as I didn't try to lift it much. 

There was, however, something that made me rethink my decision at one point. Frankie enjoyed having a mom take care of him, and I felt selfish for not granting them more time together. On the other hand, I wasn't sure if the baby treatment my mother was giving him was actually good for him. I concluded that some things were good only to a certain extent  


******  


After lunch, we were prepared to go home. Mikey offered to drive us so we wouldn't have to bother Ray. My mother escorted Frankie to the car. He had his backpack on; one hand holding Puppy while the other clutched the carebear I had bought for him. It seemed to have replaced his old Teddy for the time being. Telling Puppy not to bite the bear, he first left both in the backseat and then turned to my mother.  


"B-bye, Donna!" he hugged her.  


"Bye, sweety, I loved having you here."  


"I l-like it here b-but miss our h-house, too. And...and my p-plants."  


"Ray watered them every day, don't worry," she said.  


"I kn-know, but they m-miss _us_ ," Frankie replied, kissing my mother's cheek. I couldn't deny I was glad to hear that he wanted to go home as much as I did, whatever the reason.  


"Gerard, are you sure you're not forgetting anything?" mom asked me as I got into the car after Frank.  


"Yes, I'm sure, I have everything here." I pointed to my bag.  


"Frank's pills, vitamins? Antiseptic to clean your wound?" she leaned on the car's window.  


"Yes, mom, I got all of Frank's stuff and we have antiseptic at home." I grabbed her hand, squeezing it a little. "Relax already, we'll be fine."  


"I still think you should stay here longer. Or...want me to go and stay there with you? At least for some hours each day? I think I'll go right now because..."  


"No, mom. It's not necessary, you're not going anywhere. You have to work tonight so all I want you to do is rest, ok?" I smiled.  


 She sighed. "Ok."   


"Enough exaggeration?" Mikey questioned. "I'm starting the car, we're gone, bye mom."

"Thanks for that Mikey, she was getting _too_ annoying." I chuckled, watching our mom wave at us as the car drove away.  


"D-donna's not an-annoying,

" Frankie whispered, his head against the window. "She...she's a m-mom. M-moms ask lots of qu-questions. Y-yeah, s-saw it in m-movies."  


"He's right..." Mikey stated, unconcealable emotions showing through his voice.  


"Yes...that's right, Frankie. She's our mom and she loves us, so I shouldn't speak like that about her. I'll try not to do it anymore," I promised, once again realising how accurate Frank's simple way of saying things was. Mikey and I were two spoiled brats.  


"K-kay. I'm s-sleepy now."  


"Then lay your head on my lap and sleep, baby."  


Frank didn't answer, he just made himself comfortable. When he was set with the pink toy pressed against his chest, Puppy looked at us indecisively. He tilted his head blinking a few times and barked lowly.  


"Wanna take a nap too, you black furry ball?" I invited the dog, seeing him make that grimace that I was sure was a smile. He reminded me of Frankie sometimes. 

Puppy walked all over his owner, making him giggle; the doggie wasn't too heavy but his paws tickled. He placed himself on my legs -using the space left by Frank's head- and yawned, tucking his little snout in the crook of my boyfriend's neck.  


"Awww," I couldn't help but voice.  


"Can you get any gayer?" Mikey laughed. "You just sounded like Alicia."  


******  


"Frankie...baby, we're home." I gently shook him, Puppy helping me by liking his face.  


"Wh-what?"  


"We're home. Sorry, love, you'll have to get up 'cause I can't carry you."  


"K-kay." He rubbed his eyes. 

I got out first and held out my hand for him to take it.  


"Oh, you're such a gentleman, bro!" Mikey mocked me.  


"Shut up. Don't you see that he was lying down sleeping until now and could get dizzy? And anyway, what if I wanna be a gentleman for my boyfriend? You should try it, I'm sure Alicia would like a change."  


"She likes me as I am."  


"You're lucky..." I retorted amusingly. In the meantime, I held Frankie close to me until he seemed to feel stable to stand on his own. "You ok, babe?"  


"Y-yep, fine." He picked up Puppy and waited beside me, looking around.  


"What did you mean?" Mikey continued.  


"Nothing, Mikes, nothing. Tell mom I'm sorry for being an asshole, will you?"  


He got out of the car and helped me with my bag, accommodating it on my right shoulder. "Will do. But...don't you want me to stay for a couple of hours just in case you need something?"   


"Nah, we're fine. We'll probably just sleep. Keep the car, I won't use it for the moment." I suddenly felt generous. "Just...be careful!"  


"Thanks! And don't worry, I won't kill your car. Bye bro, bye kid!"  


"B-bye, Mikey! Th-thanks for sh-sharing your mom." Frankie took advantage of my brother's quick hug, attacking him with a loud smack kiss on the cheek before he could escape.  


"Anytime!" Mikey went back to the car shaking his head. "Effusive kid you are..."   


When I was guiding Frankie towards our house I noticed that he looked worried, or rather scared. He clung to me and stopped, refusing to walk any further.  


"Frankie...come on, we have to go inside."  


"N-no."  


"You don't want to go in?" I asked, not understanding.  


"Y-yes I want to be in-inside but...but d-don't wanna walk th-there," he mumbled. I still couldn't get what he meant. Mikey, who still hadn't left, was eying us weirdly.  


"You know I can't carry you..."  


"It's n-not that. S-safe here, and in-inside. N-not while g-going," he went on, not really making much sense to me. Maybe he was confused and didn't know himself what he was saying.  


"Everything's ok, it's a short distance, come on." I began to walk, at first almost dragging Frankie until he eventually complied and took small steps, his face buried in my shirt and never looking up. 

He seemed to feel at ease as soon as we were inside, though I was wondering what the problem had been. I'd have to wait and ask him again when he wasn't so tired.  


"Wanna go sleep a little more?"  


"D-dunno," he spoke apathetically. 

I thought of something that could provoke a reaction. "What do you say if we take a shower?"  


"T-together?" his face popped up.  


"Of course." I smiled and kissed him.  


"Th-then yes."

In the bathroom, Frankie got rid of all his clothes rapidly while I had only managed to take off my jeans. He stared at me, appearing to have something in mind.  


"S-sit," he commanded, patting the toilet seat. I obeyed. He lifted the back of my t-shirt and then meditated for a while before stretching the fabric on the right side. His serious, concentrated expression was adorable. So much that I was frozen staring at him.  


"P-put your ar-arm out, G-gee!" he requested, and I understood what he wanted. He was helping me undress like my mother would do while we were at her house. I _could_ do it, but it took me some extra time and pain.  


"Oh...yes." After I set my unhurt arm free, he passed the shirt over my head and finally -and very carefully- took it past my sore side.  


"D-done."  


"Thank you very much, honey." I brought him closer, my fingers making contact with that smooth, bare skin they had missed so much. "I love you."  


"M-me too, l-lots."

As soon as I had gotten completely wet under the shower, Frank made me sit on the edge of the bathtub and grabbed the shampoo, lathering my hair.  


"Feels so nice," I exclaimed, closing my eyes to enjoy it. The fact that it was Frankie doing it made it ten times more pleasurable. It was a different love and care demonstration from that provided by other kind of physical contact, and he being naked in front of me was an unimportant detail.  


It had been a while since Frank said anything at all, so I looked up to check on him. He was fighting to keep his eyes open while he continued to massage my scalp. Giving me a tired smile, he staggered.  


"Got ya," I said, my arm around his waist but still keeping some distance between us. "I can do it, better wash yourself so you can go lie down."  


"N-no, wanna h-help you," Frank insisted. And I knew he would get away with his plan. 

After he was done with my hair he soaped my back, my neck and my shoulders; delicately moving the cloth around my patched wound. He only allowed me do the rest when it was evident that he was too tired to stay standing. He then washed his own hair while sitting, and gave up before he got to do anything else.  


"D-don't wanna wash m-myself, sleepy."  


"I can help you..."  


"N-no, you c-can't help me 'c-cause...'cause _y-you_ are hurt. _I_ h-help _you._ B-but now I w-wanna sleep."

Even though he looked exhausted, Frankie amazingly got part of his strength back once out of the shower -or he at least wanted me to think so. He permanently observed me and assisted me every time I had trouble with something. His concerned behavior was _so_ meaningful, so admirable. He was visibly worn out and not feeling exactly great, yet he was helping me.  


We collapsed on the bed after that, falling asleep in seconds.  


******  


I woke up craving a smoke. I lazily slid off the bed and rummaged through my yet-to-unpack bag. Nothing. I next explored my jean jacket, but all pockets were empty.  


"Oh, shit!" I smacked my forehead, remembering that I'd smoked my last cigarette that morning. My initial idea had been to stop somewhere on our way home to buy more. Maybe the fresh hair blowing on my face had made me forget about it. Now I _urgently_ needed a cig.

Although awake, Frankie was still slugging in bed, petting Puppy who had proudly taken his usual spot on the pillow.  


"Hey, babe." I surprised him with a kiss.  


"H-hi!" He got on his knees and hugged my neck. His look was clearer and there was more color on his face, signs of an apparent good repose.  


"Feel better?"  


"Y-yes. I...I'm th-thirsty." He snatched the glass of juice I was holding. When he was inclining it to drink, he glanced at the balled candy I was displaying on my open hand. "Oh..." He took it with a resigned puff and threw it into his mouth.  


"The best, most obedient boy ever." I grinned. While Frank finished his juice, I sat behind him and brushed his hair. It was shiny and silky, since he rarely objected to us combing it now.  


"Frankie, I need to go two blocks from here to buy something..." I informed him, knowing that he loved to go anywhere with me. 

His reply was unexpected. "N-no, I'm not g-going."  


"Why not? You can bring Puppy along."  


"N-no." He began to tremble.  


"Frankie, you know I can't leave you here alone."  


"D-don't care. N-NO," he shouted. He didn't look angry at all, he was scared.  


"Ok, but would you tell me why?" I questioned. 

He raised his head, crying. "A-afraid."  


"You're afraid of what?"  


"B-bad guys," he murmured.  


"What...oh...the ones who did this to me?" I deduced, pointing to my shoulder.  


"Y-yes. Th-they could f-find us ag-again. I...I'll s-stay." He hugged his knees and kept crying. 

I couldn't believe how much I had hurt Frankie with my actions, how many consequences my stupid desire of revenge had brought. Thinking back, Frankie had refused to go anywhere with my mother while we were at her house, but we had assumed it was because he wanted to stay with me. Now I knew the truth.  


"Baby, those guys won't hurt us again. The police are looking for them, so they surely left town," I lied. I couldn't tell him the real reason why I thought we were safe. Or at least _hoped_ we were.  


"S-same. I'm s-scared, d-don't make me g-go, p-please. P-please Gee," he wept. 

I couldn't oblige him, I didn't want to. I knew, though, that I'd _have_ to eventually. He needed to overcome his fear and besides, it'd be a real problem if I wasn't able to take him with me whenever I needed to go out. I couldn't be calling Ray every time I had to leave for a few minutes.  


"I won't, Frankie...don't cry. Come here," I called him, wrapping my arms around him protectively. 

I held him like that until he was pacified, the medication accomplishing its part too. I got up and he curled up on the bed, only half alert. I stared at him, trying to decide what to do. Knowing how affected Frank was had made me more desperate for a smoke.  


"Baby, I really need to go out for a little while..."  


"N-no..."  


"You don't have to go. I'll leave you here and go running so I can come back very quickly, ok?"  


"D-don't go, they c-can hurt you," he spoke shakily.  


"No one will hurt me, I promise. I'll be back."  


"P-promise?"  


"I do."  


"K-kay. F-fast, F-frankie can't be al-alone. N-never, no." 

He made me feel very guilty. I didn't want to go, it terrified me to leave him alone, even if for five minutes. What if he found a way to hurt himself, what if he fell? What if something _did_ happen to me and he was left there alone? But I needed something to calm myself down, and it was either smoking or drinking. I knew there was beer in the fridge -that is if Ray hadn't thrown it away. I wanted to be strong and smoking would help me.  


I thought of the perils. Frankie was rather doped at the moment, but what if he walked around the house the same? That was dangerous, especially if he went to the kitchen. He always saw me operate the stove and oven, so he most probably knew how to do it. He might even try to stand on a chair to reach the cutlery, which would be a double risk. However, the kitchen didn't have a door, only our room did. The only solution to keep Frank away from danger was to lock him in there, but it felt _so_ wrong.  


"I'll be back very very soon, be a good boy in the meantime and stay quiet. I love you." I kissed his lips and left the room. 

He was watching me, sitting on the edge of the bed with a lost semblance. "B-bye," he waved. 

It hurt to turn the key, it really hurt nearly more than being shot. "It's to keep him safe," I whispered to myself, grabbing my wallet and running out of the house.  


I made the two blocks in less than one minute, avoiding people along my race. I thought of how ironic it was to be buying cigarettes when I could hardly breathe. The vendor probably had the same thought, because he stared at me oddly. 

On my way back, I decided to walk fast instead of running. Unable to wait any longer and knowing that Frankie didn't want me to smoke in the house, I lit up a cig forthwith. My ineptitude to control two activities at the same time showed up, and I found myself slowing my pace every time I inhaled.  


I was halfway home when my eyes randomly fell on a couple across the street. It wasn't any random couple, though. I stopped dead and hid behind a tree to spy on them, thanking my good vision. I ignored the girl and centered on the guy. I knew that short, lank, black hair. I knew that thin silhouette, a little taller than me. I knew that leather jacket he'd wear even under high summer temperatures. I saw him smile at the girl. I knew that smile, and I remembered how his eyes -blue eyes- would also seem to laugh. It reminded me of why I had fallen in love with Gabriel.

But then I watched the blond girl shorten the distance between them, flirtatious. He hesitatingly placed a hand on her hip and gave her the coldest, least heartfelt kiss I had ever witnessed. She brought her hands to his head, trying to deepen the kiss, but he avoided her and went for her cheek. He smiled again and I realized that it was a fake smile. This reminded me of why I had fallen out of love with Gabriel.

It wasn't because of the girl I had found him with that day, but the way he had fooled himself. It was due to his cowardice, to the confirmation that our relationship was a cause of shame for Gabriel. I would have been okay with him not _directly_ telling his family about us, but I wasn't going to live hiding. I would have even consented to him asking a friend to pretend to be his girlfriend once or twice in front of his parents. But I couldn't be with someone who was capable of hitting on a girl and making her think that he liked her when he was one hundred percent gay. It killed me to imagine him fucking her while thinking of me. He'd disrespected her and what we had just to save himself. He was determined to keep the farce. That's when I had made it clear that he wouldn't keep _me_.

"Frankie." The name resounded in my head, like a call. Frankie was home alone and I was there, wasting my time, letting the resentment against my ex surface.  


I resumed my walk wondering why Gabriel had to reappear just now, after months without seeing him around. Although...maybe he had never gone anywhere and I'd been just lucky all that time. He was bad memories, and I didn't need them. I felt bad for his new girl, but it was better for me not to meddle.  


The cigarette had consumed in my hand, so I retrieved a second one, expelling the bad mood together with the smoke.

******  


Home again and with my vice satisfied, I hurried to the bedroom. "Frankie, I'm back!" I announced prior to opening the door so I would not startle him. 

There was no answer, not a sound could be heard from where I was standing. 

I went in and Frankie was nowhere in sight. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck..." I panicked, afraid that he might have swooned or fallen and could be unconscious. 

I climbed on the bed to look at the other side of it, and my worried frown turned into a smile. Frankie was sitting on the floor playing with his wooden construction blocks. He didn't just have the ones from when I was little. They had multiplied, since Ray had bestowed his huge collection too.  


Some wondered how seeing my boyfriend playing like a little kid could be such a natural thing to me. Well, if we were to be honest, deep inside we all feel like playing with our old toys once in a while; only that the stupid rules and ideas imposed to us by society -or even our own family- always refrain us. Frankie didn't know about that, didn't care. He did what he felt, he was freer.

Sometimes it scared me, nevertheless. When seeing Frankie act like that, most people wouldn't believe that there was a different side of him. They wouldn't believe that he could love me in the same way I loved him. To the world, he could be a kid trapped in a teenager's body who was being taken advantage of. I knew that wasn't the case. My family and friends -even if some of them were not entirely in agreement- knew it too. But what about the others? I didn't care about what they could think, I feared what they could do as a result.

Frank stuck to working on his creation, not hearing me enter the room. He had built some sort of compact, not too tall, square fence. In the middle sat Puppy, immobile as a statue but looking accomplished. When the dog saw me, he couldn't help waving his tail, hitting the blocks and demolishing the fence.  


"P-puppy, look wh-what you did!" Frankie whined. 

The pet jumped on him and licked his nose, wanting to say that he was sorry. My laughter caused Frankie to finally spot me.  


"Y-you're back!" he instantly came to sit with me, his failed construction forgotten. He was chemically slowed down, but the haze didn't reach his eyes. He pecked my lips and then changed his tone. "M-missed you. N-now you s-stay with me to do b-boyfriends things."

You could say that Frankie was two people in one, yet they were both the same and couldn't exist without each other. It was a sum I loved.


	46. Chapter 46

_And after all this time that you still owe  
you're still a good-for-nothing, I don't know.  
So take your gloves and get out,  
better get out while you can._

My hand slid along Frank's cheek and went to rest at the back of his head, my fingers digging into his hair. Fingertips found the old, raised scar and caressed it; as if that could erase it together with the past, the damage. Frankie was staring at me quietly, smiling, his whole face speaking of love. Maybe I'd already managed to suppress part of that past.

I tried a Eskimo kiss, his glasses jumping on the bridge of his nose. He laughed, and his eyes sparkled. Those eyes, so tender and demonstrative. I couldn't imagine them any different; couldn't picture those pupils, those hazel irises far away from each other the same as I couldn't envisage myself far away from Frank. I accommodated his glasses up on his head, that giving me a better view of not only his eyes but his whole face. A doll.

I kissed him and while his lips responded contently, his hands acted doubtful. He wanted to make sure that he wouldn't hurt me. One hand ended on my neck, his right one landed on my chest, arm flexed in between us so we could still be very close. He slightly opened his mouth and my tongue invaded it, tasting that usual mix of strawberry and orange that I loved so much. We only made a short, necessary pause to breathe. As we continued, my hand left its spot. I didn't want it to. I liked to touch that scar, I liked Frank's hair, I liked how he'd sigh under my touch. But my other arm was still kinda useless.

I lifted his shirt, exploring under it. His shoulders, his back, his side and the perfect curve where his waist joined his hips. Frankie intensified the kiss and the hand that was on my chest went past the restraining fabric, snaking underneath it. It roamed confidently over my chest and stomach, causing my body temperature to rise. It moved to my belly, played with my bellybutton and went even lower. It even dared to venture into my jeans, though not far. It came out right away to go up again, but that had been enough to turn me on. It was, perhaps, the fact that we'd barely been able to kiss -let alone touch- for more than a week. I had caught my mother spying on us even while we were just sleeping -thanks to my insomnia. I had missed that closeness, I had _longed_ for it.

During a new breath-pause, I looked down at Frank's lap. Just an impulse, my mind reminding me that I had to pay attention to Frank's needs. He would always be first for me.  


"Wh-what?" he asked, panting. His cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen, beautiful.  


"Nothing babe, I was just...taking a breath!" 

I was glad that he hadn't seemed to notice the growing bulge in my pants. There was _none_ in his. That was a signal for me to not go any farther and for the little friend inside my boxers to forget and cool down by itself. And honestly, for the moment being it was better if we took it easy. Frank was still rather off with the medication -which probably kept his body from reacting normally- and I was still sore and having trouble finding comfortable positions. Thinking of how we pathetically matched in spite of all made me laugh.

"Wh-what you l-laughing at?" He failed to peck at my lips and giggled, fixing his glasses back into place.  


"I'm just happy. You are...uhmf." My answer was muffled by a new, sudden lip-attack. He moved to my lap, straddling me.  


As we carried on kissing, probably marking a new record, I ignored what was happening in my lower body. Doing something about it wouldn't be fair if it wasn't mutual. It was maybe another thing to blame those meds for, but not something I particularly cared much about. I could handle it. I felt in heaven just kissing Frankie and having him so close.

"C-can you make d-dinner now? I...I'm h-hungry!" Frank got off me after leaving a last kiss on my cheek. He suddenly looked like a pleading little kid again.  


"Of course, wanna help me?"  


"Y-yep."  


"Let's go, then." I took his hand and we walked to the kitchen. Both a little sweaty, clothes disarrayed and hair messed up. But oh _so happy_ to be home.  


******

After dinner, as always, we cuddled on the couch to watch TV -or better said to _try to._ Frankie was in charge of the remote control and didn't seem to find anything of his liking. He wouldn't stay on the same channel for more than one minute, whimpering annoyed before changing it.  


Bad luck wanted him to catch a movie scene where a man was aiming a gun at another. Frank made a strangled noise at the back of his throat and fumbled with the buttons, desperately trying to change the channel but unable to achieve it. He was shaking too much. Yet, he was holding the remote so tightly that it wasn't easy for me to get it out of his hands. I couldn't do it on time. The weapon was fired and he gave out such a long, loud scream that my eardrums hurt. Suspecting that there would be more shots, I clicked two random numbers and then collected Frankie in my arms. He made himself even smaller than he was, looking for shelter, trying to disappear.

"Just a movie, just a movie. It's gone now, see? Only a silly ridiculous woman selling silly ridiculous things." I pointed at the screen. It was one of those 'Call now!' shows, and someone wearing a weird old fashioned dress was trying to sell some even weirder implement with a long stick I couldn't figure out the use for.  


Frankie looked, smiled a little, and hid his face against my chest again. I was expecting him to say something, to voice his feelings; but he didn't. I didn't want to insist on the subject until talking to Goldberg -who would be seeing Frank in two days. All I could do for now was to try and replace the awful image in his mind with something more cheerful.  


"We better watch some cartoons before going to sleep." I turned to Nickelodeon.  


"Y-yes. I w-want no guns. N-no guns," he whispered.  


"No guns, love. But you don't need to be scared, it's not real. They're actors, no one really gets hurt on TV shows or movies."  


"I kn-know, G-grace told me b-but...I d-don't like it. Th-this..." Frank placed his hand on my shoulder."... _is_ r-real. G-guns suck."  


I rested my forehead on his. "You're totally right, Frankie." He had a very special gift. Every day he demonstrated wisdom with simplicity.  


******  


The next morning I advised Frankie to go back to sleep after giving him his pills. He'd had a rough night and woken up several times crying. I knew what his nightmares were about even if he hadn't told me. The words he murmured in his dream made it easy to imagine: gun, blood, dead, alone.  


It was already midday when I was in the kitchen and saw Frank pass me by on his way to the patio. He carried something big in his arms, so I had to follow him. Why was he going out? Why hadn't he looked at me or kissed me good morning? He never forgot to do that.  


It turned out that he wasn't heading for the patio. He, instead, stopped by the tiny laundry room. I spied him from the door, noticing that the entangled mass in his hands had Batman drawings on it. It was our bed's sheets. Frankie crouched in front of the washing machine and threw them inside. When he got up, staring at the appliance, his long, baggy t-shirt lifted and I saw that his blue boxers were wet. 

I must have made an unconscious sound that he heard.  


"H-hi," Frankie said startled, looking at the floor. He was ashamed.  


"Hello, Frankie." I kissed him as if nothing had happened. "Slept better at last?"  


"Y-yes."  


"Want me to teach you how to work the washing machine?" I asked him. He had never paid much attention while I did the laundry, and now I thought that doing it himself would help him feel better. I also didn't want to show how worried I was about him peeing his bed so often. It was another issue I would have to converse with his psychiatrist.  


"Y-yeah," e nodded.  


"Ok, but first take off your boxers and put them in there with the sheets. Your shirt will cover you."  


"K-kay." He quickly complied, one side of his lips curved into a semi-smile. "B-but you _always_ s-see me naked an-anyway."  


"True!"  


I performed the complete procedure slowly, speaking out the instructions for Frankie to comprehend them. I knew that I'd have to repeat them next time, probably more than once, but I didn't mind. Frank would end up remembering eventually, and he rarely forgot things once he had learned them thoroughly. Besides, it was comforting to see the satisfaction on his face when he discovered a new task that he was able to do.  


"It'll be done in a while, now go change so you can have your late breakfast." I pinched one of his ass cheeks.  


"Ouch! G-going!" He rubbed his butt, pouting.  


"Too tempting!" I shouted after him as he got into the bedroom.  


******  


Another week went by. A week of nightmares, wet beds and washing machine lessons. Not _every_ day, but too often for my -and Frankie's- liking.  


Goldberg said that poor Frank was still too affected and frightened. It would take some more time and patience to expel the reminders of that day from his memory. The doctor was, however, satisfied with the way the medication was working. Even if it might seem excessive to us, calmness was very important for Frank at this point; otherwise it would have been a lot harder for him to cope with everything. We were told to not touch the subject save Frankie did first. The psychiatrist preferred to take care of that during their sessions now that the boy was luckily opening up a little more to him. 

I talked about the way in which we had handled the wet-bed problem and Goldberg said we had done the right thing. It was essential to spare Frankie any stress or guilty feeling, and show him that no one was angry at him, that it was an accident.  He also recommended that we suggested activities to keep Frank's mind occupied. Never imposing anything, always letting him choose and decide. About his fear of going out, the doctor told me to give him one more week before insisting. Then we'd have to start little by little, without expecting him to walk ten blocks on the first try.  


Frankie was still pretty quiet most of the time, although more spirited and talkative. For moments he'd follow me everywhere around the house as if he was afraid of losing me. Arguing that my arm needed to rest, he helped me with everything he could: to dress, undress, bathe and even clean the house when he was feeling up to it. He loved to be helpful and didn't mind it if he ended up exhausted.

He was being very affectionate, always willing to kiss, touch, be as close to me as possible; but his sexuality seemed to be anesthetized. It wasn't a problem for us, since our relationship wasn't about sex. We enjoyed the contact, to feel each other with all our senses. We didn't always need a sexual release to be content, so I was in no hurry.

Two days ago I had returned to my work, finally feeling that our life was slowly getting back on track. My wound was cicatrizing well, and my arm had regained a high percent of its mobility. That hadn't stop my mother from visiting whenever she could to make sure that we were doing fine. Ray had also spent a considerable number of hours with us nearly every day, but he never annoy me like she did.  


The previous afternoon I had succeeded at making Frank leave the house and walk farther than five steps. It was a good start, even if he asked me to go back inside as soon as we reached the corner. So yes, things were generally better.  


******

I left the store waving at Sarah and adjusted my jacket. Fall was finally making itself present, covering the sidewalks with yellowing leaves and turning the air colder. I liked how things looked during fall, though I didn't like the weather that much.  


When I raised my eyes from that crunchy, ochre carpet to set them on the path ahead, I saw the last person I could have expected -or wanted- to find waiting for me. He was leaning on a lamp post, staring at his shoes and smoking nervously. I hurried to pass him by -hoping that he hadn't seen me come out- but I didn't get too far. A firm and decided hand grabbed me by my left arm and turned me around.  


"FUCK _YOU_ , IT HURTS!" I screamed, thinking more about the pain in my resented shoulder than the person who had caused it.  


"Sorry, I...I didn't know. How are you?" that voice I had gotten to know so well spoke timidly.  


"I'm fine, you?" I replied shortly.  


"Not so good...I've missed you, Gee. I've missed you _so_ much. I've tried living away for some months, tried to forget you, but it didn't work." He sounded sincere, and I guessed he was. But I knew better than to let him get to me.  


"Don't...call me _that_. What do you want, Gabriel? Have you been stalking me or what?" I spat, not allowing him to touch me.  


"No, I swear I haven't! I accidentally saw you leave this store one day."  


I rolled my eyes." _Sure_."   


"Gerard...don't be like this. I miss you."  


"Congratulations? I don't."  


"That's because you've replaced me already," he said. How could he talk about replacements? Since I didn't answer, he went on. "You're into little retarded kids, now?"

I got a hold of his shirt and shoved him against the wall. "What did you just say?" I had never been a violent person, but he was crossing the line. Just thinking that he could have been following me was enough to make me feel uncomfortable. And now he was picking on Frank.  


"You heard me! That day when I saw you, you weren't alone. You left hand in hand with a kid that couldn't be more than 15. Don't tell me he was your _friend_ , I was able to tell that wasn't the case," he huffed. 

I realised that he must have spotted us minutes before we were attacked and that gave me a chill. Not that what happened was in any way connected to Gabriel, but I didn't like to know that someone else had been stalking us that same day.  


"He's 18, for your information. And what damn reason do you have to call him retarded?" I kept my grip on him. "What is it? That he wears glasses? That he's cross-eyed? How does that translate to him being retarded?"  


"How about...that he stutters and speaks like a little child?" he retorted.  


"I'm sorry if we're not all perfect like you, Gabriel. I think you're just a pathetic, jealous bitch." I couldn't believe how he was acting. He sure had his flaws back then when we were together, but he'd never been that disdainful. He didn't use to be one to mock people's defects.  


"Oh, yeah?" was his only reply, followed by a smirk.  


"You're an asshole, and you're _creepy_. Get out of my sight, please." I let go of my ex and stepped back to give him space.  


His blue eyes softened and he stared at me pleadingly. "Gerard, I'm sorry. It's just that...I still love you." I knew that he was telling the truth. He had probably never ceased to love me. I had seen the love in those eyes while he was begging me to stay that sad day. However, my love for him had been instantly murdered when I saw what he was capable of, when he told me what the 'conditions' were for us to be together.  


"Gabriel...it's been about a year, get over it. I did. And I'll remind you that _you_ were the one who fucked things up." I tried to walk away, but he stopped me.  


"I know, but I want to be with you again. Please, give me the chance," he whined on the verge of tears. 

I wasn't exactly thrilled. "Interesting. And tell me, _Gabe_ ," I pronounced his nickname with faked sweetness. "would you let the world know that you're a queer, even your family? Would you tell that new blond girl of yours the truth and stop playing with her?"  


"Hey! Who's the stalker now?"  


"Just a coincidence, _baby_. Now answer me, would you?" I repeated the question. 

There was hope in his eyes and a timid smile attempted to adorn his lips. I did feel kind of cruel at that moment, but I _needed_ to know. I needed to put him to the test. 

Then he got serious again, avoiding my eyes. "You know I can't."  


"Oh, no no. Use your verbs correctly, Gabriel: you don't _want to_ ," I corrected him. He hadn't changed.  


"I _can't_! You know my family would disown me!" 

It was odd to see him cry, he didn't use to. I had always been the one doing it; asking questions, feeling like something that needed to be hidden, something he was ashamed of. But he'd always manage to convince me that it was for the best. _Until that afternoon_.  


"Oh, yes. So, to save your own pathetic ass you'll spend the rest of your days living a double life and using people! Honestly, at this point I'm not even sure that your family is as bad as you've always made them seem. I think it's _you_ who has the problem," I responded, proud of my firmness. The roles had been inverted.  


Gabriel sat on the floor against the wall, sobbing, his head in between his knees. I sighed loudly, memories of the good old times playing with my mind. I lost control over my spontaneous braveness and allowed a tear to roll down my cheek. My hand reached out to touch him, but I contained myself. 

He lifted his face. "I can't...I can't, but I do love you, Gee. I do love you."  


"I don't, Gabe. I don't, I'm sorry. It was good while it lasted. I've loved you a lot, don't doubt it. But it's over, it's been over for a long time. _You_ ruined it. I know it hurts to hear it, but you need to assume responsibility for your acts." I talked to him as gently as my shaken state permitted it.  


"And...wouldn't you let me be with you once in a while at least? I won't ask you to leave that kid," he tried.  


"No."  


"You could even be on top if that's what you want. Really, I don't mind as long as it's our secret!" He was really desperate, but not even desperation could kill the coward in him. He was piteous.  


"Look, for the love I once felt for you, take my advice," I said, disorienting him. "Ask for help, _professional_ help. Do it for you and for the people around you. You won't be able to be happy until you accept yourself, what you are."  


"But I..."  


"Good luck, Gabriel." I kissed the top of his head and left.  


"I'm sorry..." I heard him whisper. I truly hoped he was and would seek help as I told him. That's all I could do for him, I wouldn't let him ruin me twice. I had a new life, a new love, a new attitude.  


But bad habits die hard. I chose the longest path home so I'd have more time to calm down, smoking three cigarettes in a row. It didn't work. The encounter had raked up too many memories; some good and some painful. I had my feelings clear, I didn't love Gabriel and seeing him again had only served as reassurance. Yet that didn't mean it hadn't hurt. Of course it hurt to see the person who I once loved so much in such a pathetic state; begging and crying but still refusing to change the same behavior that had ended it all.

Smoking wasn't enough, and I knew what could ease my nerves. I remembered well what had made me feel better back then when my love for Gabriel died, when my heart was broken, when I felt so lost. The situation was different now. I had a beautiful, sweet boyfriend waiting for me at home. But if getting completely drunk had helped me in the past, even when everything seemed so fucked up, just a little alcohol would suffice now to stabilize me. I didn't want Frankie to see me nervous, I didn't want to harm him any more.

I called Ray, telling him that I needed to buy some things and that's why I was delayed. He didn't have to work until later, so he said it was no problem to stay with Frankie a little longer. However, my friend perceived it in my voice that something was wrong. He asked and I denied, adducing that I was just tired and still not used to the routine after two weeks off work. I hung up before finding out whether he believed it.

I walked into the main area of town, shivering at the descending temperature. There were several bars to choose from, and in my depressive period I had visited them all. I'd tell Bob that it bored me to always drink at the same place, and I didn't like the regular customers to point at me and say 'here comes the drunken idiot'. I didn't want to become the town's famous fuck up. Even in my lowest times I still had some dignity.  


I sauntered along the streets, eying each well known bar, unable to decide where to get my beer. _I'd only get beer, just a glass._ Something weird was occurring to me, though: I needed a drink and at the same time couldn't gather the courage to cross any bar's door.  


At that moment I saw a sign I hadn't seen before. One with fancy neon letters -though still not lighted up- that none of the other bars had. This place was bigger; and looking through the windows I could see that it was also cleaner and more modern, with even a small stage at the back. It _had_ to be new, also obvious by the numerous people sitting at the tables at only 5 in the afternoon.  


"Let's see how good the beer's here," I thought. 

I was about to open the door when the shocking-red font of an announcement displayed on it urged me stop and read it. A band would be playing there on Friday at 11 pm. A _traveling_ band called _'The Homeless Souls'._


	47. Chapter 47

_Nineteen years full of regrets,  
your excuses bore me,  
it's not my fault I have my father's eyes.  
The cradle rocks,  
the ground breaks beneath me as I fall._

My feet were stuck to the ground and my eyes to that piece of paper. "The Homeless Souls," I read again. I remembered that name very well; and since that day when I first knew of them I had feared as much as I wished to catch them playing near our town. Wished, because Frank's father deserved to know that his son was alive and I was hoping he would be different than the boy's other relatives. Feared, because that could end up badly. Now it was suddenly happening and the fear was stronger.

Would contacting that man get me into more trouble? Maybe not necessarily, as long as I was cautious and talked to him in person. But what if I was being followed? The possibility existed, even though I hadn't noticed any other suspicious movement.  


I thought and thought and concluded that giving Frank the chance to reunite with someone from his family who cared about him was worth taking the risk. That is if this Anthony _did_ care, of course.  


I didn't bother writing down the date and time of the show. It was impossible for me to forget, I knew this would occupy my thoughts for the rest of the week. My sad encounter with Gabriel had been shoved to the bottom of my mind and my first idea of buying a beer had been discarded; it didn't matter anymore. I just went back on my tracks and walked home, pondering what to do.

I _had_ to go to that place on Friday, I wanted to give it a try, but I knew that no one else would agree. If my family or Ray found out about my plans they'd do their best to stop me. I needed an excuse, an alibis. Would Bob help me? I considered him my only hope, since he wasn't one to think things much. He'd understand my reasons and even offer to go with me, I was sure that he would. _Or almost._

******  


"Where the fuck were you?" Ray questioned when I finally arrived home. "You got me really worried, you know?"  


"Oh, Ray...you sound like my mother! I told you I had to buy some things."  


He threw me a skeptical look. "I don't see any bags..."   


"I didn't find what I wanted, gosh!"  


"Have you been drinking?" he whispered, not letting me walk any further into the living room. 

I stood on my tiptoes, trying to see Frank from over my friend's shoulder. How come Ray _always_ knew what I did and even what I'd _intended_ to do? He could be creepy sometimes.  


"No I haven't," I said. 

He got closer and smelled me. He fucking _smelled_ me. "Look at me," he commanded. I did so without hesitating. I was telling the truth after all, he didn't need to know that I had changed my mind at the last second. He kept my stare for some seconds and then smiled. "Sorry, I had to be sure. You sounded weird over the phone, like...guilty. But I guess it was just me."  


"I think now you're the paranoid one, Ray." I pushed past him. "Where's Frankie?"  


"Right there, seems that he's so entertained that he didn't hear you." He pointed to the coffee table. Frank was sitting in front of it surrounded by a complete mess of what appeared to be paper, magazines and glue.  


"Hey, Frankie! No welcome for your boyfriend today?" I announced myself loud enough. He interrupted his task which now I saw consisted in cutting something out of a magazine. Cutting. _He was using scissors_. I watched horrified, not understanding how Ray had given him that. "What the f..."  


"G-gee! Y-you're late!" Frank got up and was instantly kissing me, his sticky hands on my face. 

I turned my eyes towards the supposedly evil object that he was still holding: harmless, round-pointed, plastic scissors; those that are for little kids and have no real sharp edge. "Oh..."  


"R-ray buy-ed...uh...b-bought them for m-me." He showed me happily.  


"You thought me so careless?" Ray chuckled at my relieved sigh. "He was bored and asked me what he could do. I saw those old magazines under the table and it reminded me that I used to make collages with random pics when I was younger. He liked the idea but wanted to cut the photos himself 'cause well, that's where the main fun is! So we went to buy scissors that were safe for him."  


"He accepted to walk for more than a block?" I asked, finding that detail more important.  


"Yes, he was a little scared and clung to my arm like a tick all the time, but he did it to three blocks."  


"L-like a wh-what?" Frank frowned.  


"A tick," Ray repeated. "They're bugs that live on animals. A lot uglier than fleas."  


"P-puppy doesn't have an-any ugly b-bugs! And...and I'm n-not an ugly b-bug!"  


"No, you're a _pretty_ little bug." I held him from behind and kissed his cheek. "Ray was just saying that you clung to his arm like ticks cling to animals."  


"W-was scared," he said softly.  


"I know, but you kept walking the same and I'm very proud of you. Now let's see what you've been doing." I guided him to the table, my arm still around his waist.  


There was glue everywhere, I could feel it under my shoes. We sat on the floor together -though I wasn't sure if I'd be able to unglue myself off it later- and he showed me a large sheet of paper, also heavy with and dripping glue. I studied the different, irregularly cut pictures he'd put together. Landscapes with mountains, lakes, beaches and woods. Dogs, lions, tigers, cats and polar bears. Butterflies, lady bugs and even ants. Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom and other several actors and singers?  


"Why these guys?" I inquired. 

He giggled and blushed. "Th-they're handsome," he whispered. "B-but you're more! Y-you're not j-jealous?"  


"Nah, you have a good taste for men I must say!"  


"Oh please, no!" Ray faked disgust. "I better go home before the chick-talk begins!"  


"Come on, Ray! Even the straightest of guys can't deny Johnny's appeal!"  


"Uh...I'm late! Bye, guys!" he dodged the question and escaped laughing.  


"Well Frankie, you finish your collage and I'll go get some things prepared for dinner. Then we'll clean this mess, ok?"  


"K-kay," he nodded, concentrated on organizing some photos.  


"Oh...and once you're done don't put it on the wall right away; leave it over the table to dry 'cause it'll take some time with all the glue you used."  


"W-was neces-sary. Y-yes."  


"On the paper maybe, but it shouldn't be _on the floor_!" I tickled his neck and he contorted his body, making funny noises.  


"It f-fell on the floor, n-not my f-fault."  


"It _still_ needs to be cleaned soon or it'll stay there forever. And you also need a bath, sticky boy."  


"And...and y-you need a b-bath too cause you s-smell," he accused.  


"Oh yeah?"  


"Y-yeah."  


"You say that because you wanna see my sculptural body under the shower!" I joked.  


"Wh-what's sculp-tular?"  


 "Sculptural. A body that's like....all full of muscles, strong and perfect," I explained. Frankie looked at me with big eyes and then burst into a fit of laughter.  


"Hey, that's not very nice of you!" I poked his stomach, making him laugh even more.  


"Ahhhhh, Y-you're so funny, G-gee! And y-you're not sc...well, th-that word you s-said. N-nope. B-but I like to w-watch you the s-same." He grinned.  


It made me so happy to see him cheerful again that I didn't feel like giving him the pills. I enjoyed those moments just before he took them, when he was the most active he could get. Anyhow, I knew that without the medication he'd go from cheerful to out of control and that wasn't good for anyone.  


"Oh, you naughty boy!" I messed up his hair. It looked like a lion's mane and was needing some trimming, but he hated the idea. "I better go do what I said I would before I got distracted by a certain dwarf."  


"D-dwarf? Y-you mean the g-gnomes? H-haven't seen them, n-no. Th-they must think I'm b-boring now."  


"Frankie, you know they were _not_ real," I reminded him.  


"F-for _you_ ," he replied stubbornly. That subject never seemed to be completely clear to him.  


"Anyway...when I said dwarf, I meant _you_ ," I clarified as I left the room.  


"N-not a dwarf! I...I'm just s-small and...AND Y-YOU'RE NOT MUCH T-TALLER!" I heard him scream.  


Once everything -including ourselves- was clean and while our meal was in the oven, I left Frank snoozing on the couch to go call Bob.  Thanks to a co-worker who got me a cheap one, I had been able to change my cell phone. I felt secure using it since I'd only given a few selected people my new number. 

It was Wednesday night, so I needed to talk to Bob before he made any plans for Friday; that is if he hadn't already. I'd decided to openly ask him to come with me. That way I could count on friend support and I tell Ray that I was just going out with Bob. It wouldn't be exactly lying but hiding part of the truth. The only problem was that Toro knew what Bob and I used to do during our nights out. It'd be hard to convince him that this one wouldn't include getting drunk.  


"Hi, Gerard! What's up?" Bob's lazy voice greeted me. "How's your shoulder doing?"  


"Hi, Bob! It's a lot better, thanks. I called because...uh...ok, I'll go right to the point 'cause our meal's in the oven and I don't have much time before it gets burnt. Do you have something to do Friday night?"  


"Well, I had thought of going out for some drinks, but nothing specific. Why? Is Gerard Way inviting me on a date?" he asked in a feminine voice. I even pictured him wiggling his eyebrows.  


"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm already taken."  


"Oh, what a shame, 'cause you're _just_ my type," Bob tried a heartbroken tone now.  


"Do you like blues music?" I inquired.  


"Eh? Not exactly my cup of tea..."  


"Well, you'll have to put up with it, I guess. We're going to see a blues band play. Friday 11 p.m. at the new big bar on the main street. I'm sure you already know it," I hurried to give him all the information.  


"Ok? And yes, I know that bar but...why are we going to see a blues band if I may ask? I never knew you were into that either."  


"Because Frank's father plays in it. Don't ask, long story. I'll tell you all about that Friday, I don't wanna eat carbonized meat."  


"What the...? Gerard, you just got shot two weeks ago, are you sure you wanna fuck with Frank's family again?" Bob doubted.  


"Yes I'm sure, this is different. And if you don't wanna go with me I'll go alone, but please don't tell Ray or Mikey or anyone else!" I got carried away, though Bob hadn't refused yet. I had made a decision and wasn't going to change my mind. It was worth the risk.  


"You'll do anything for that kid, won't you?" he said not waiting for an answer. He _knew_ it. "I can't blame you, really. Are you back to driving already?"  


"Yep."  


He sighed. "Ok, then pick me up at 10."   


"Alright, thanks Bob! See you!"  


"Bye, Gerard!"

Grinning like a kid, yet scared for what was to come, I ran to the kitchen to check on our dinner. There was some smoke coming from the oven, but upon opening it I was comforted to see that the meat looked _just gratin_.  


"Oh well, my planning hasn't had any bad consequences so far. Maybe it's a good sign?" I spoke to Puppy who was dancing around me. "Mmm, I guess you don't care about my plans, do you? You only want what's on the platter! Yes? Then go call Frankie and we'll eat."  


The dog stared at me with his tongue out and sprang out of there with determination. 

I was getting the dishes and cutlery on the table when I heard Frank mumble. "P-puppy what you w-want? S-sleeping!"  


Had the animal really understood my command? Then Puppy barked.  


"Oh, d-dinner's ready? G-good! L-let's go, th-then," Frank said a little more clear. I was greatly surprised. Five seconds later, Puppy came back into the kitchen followed by his young owner and groggy boyfriend of mine.  


"Frankie, how did you know Puppy was telling you that dinner was ready?"  


"H-he said s-so," he answered as he sat like a zombie.  


"Oh, come on. You _smelled_ the meat, right?"  


"N-no, was s-sleeping. P-puppy said," he insisted. So, the dog did comprehend my orders and Frankie understood canine language. Interesting, to say the least. 

That night we shared our dinner with our very intelligent dog, he deserved it.   


******

I didn't dare ask Ray to stay with Frank on Friday night until that same day. I knew that having waited so much only made the possibility of him telling me that he was busy bigger, but I couldn't bring myself to do it any sooner. 

The excuse I chose to justify my going out was that I hadn't hung out with Bob in months, and he wanted us to remember the old times. It was a bad idea. As expected, Ray didn't take it too well. To him old times with Bob equaled to getting wasted; and honestly, he was right. Making him believe that it wouldn't be like that this time felt like an impossible mission.  


We didn't discuss it too much right away, because he had things to do at home, but he'd promised to be back at 9. When he did, the questioning started all over again.

"Ray, stop it. I told you I'm not gonna get drunk, I won't drink a _single drop of alcohol_ if that leaves you happy! I just wanna go out with Bob this one night."  


"I'd love to believe that, Gerard. But we both know about your problem with alcohol. Even though you tell me you won't drink, I can't imagine how you'll be able to resist when being surrounded by it. _Everybody_ drinks at those places!" Ray rustled. We were trying to keep our conversation at a low volume so Frankie wouldn't catch it from the other side of the room. It wasn't easy for any of us, with Ray striving to save me from an imminent relapse and myself advocating my right to go out without being put in doubt.  


"Listen Ray, I know it won't be easy...but I'll be strong, I'll resist. Please, trust me. If I fail, if when I come back you notice that I've been drinking -and I know you _would_ notice- you can go ahead and kick my ass and then next time do anything within your reach to stop me. But allow me this one chance, will you?" I looked him right in the eye while I spoke, showing him that I was being serious, that this was very important to me. Ray knew me more than anyone else in the world, more than my own family. He _had_ to see the sincerity behind my words. I just hoped he wouldn't see the deepest truth.  


He rubbed his face "Gerard, you keep putting me in awfully complex situations...you know that, don't you?" I nodded. "If I say yes and something goes wrong, I'll blame myself for letting it happen. If I insist on stopping you from going, I'll feel like a bad friend for not trusting you. Damn, Gee..."  


He had a point, I was always forcing him to make hard decisions. "So?" I asked timidly.   


"So...I think you should go. After all I'm not your father or your older brother to ban you, I know that. But _please_ be careful, don't throw everything away. Think about Frankie if it's not enough with yourself."  


"I will, and I _always_ think of him," I said. It was _because of Frank_ that I was having that argument with my best friend, _because of him_ that I was hiding the truth from Ray. But if I could bring Frank and his father together, if someone from that fucked up family proved to be decent, then it would be all worth the trouble.

"Ok Gee, but will you tell me what's wrong?"  


"What do you mean?" I questioned defensive.  


"Since you called me the other day I've perceived something. I was waiting for you to open up and tell me, but it doesn't look like you will any time soon. Spill?"  


"I didn't tell you anything because there's nothing to say, I'm fine," I asseverated. He wasn't buying it.  


"Gerard..." he used his classic 'don't give me shit' look.  


"Ugh, alright. The other day when I called you, I'd just had an encounter with Gabriel. He was waiting for me outside the store," I confessed. It was a convincing answer that didn't require lying. It was truly Gabriel that had me worried back then, although during the last two days my mind had been too occupied with the idea of talking to Frank's father.  


"Gabriel, after all this time? What did he want?"  


"To have me back? He didn't change at all, by the way. I had seen him some days before that -though he didn't see _me_ \- and he was playing an unconvincing straight guy with a blond girl." I chuckled.  


"Oh, fuck...but how did you feel...?"  


"I'm fine, told you," I cut him off. "I was firm with him, didn't let him dominate me. And don't give me that look again, I'm not gonna drown myself in alcohol because of him. Gabriel doesn't have anything to do with my going out tonight, Bob doesn't even know about that and _he_ invited me."  


"I can only hope you're being totally honest. You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I'm aware of how hard all that shit with Gabriel was for you."  


"I do, and I'm thankful for having you." I petted his afro. "I'm gonna go get ready, don't have much time."  


******  


"D-don't want you to g-go, it's n-night," Frankie pleaded when I was about to leave. He was practically passed out on the couch.  


"I'll be back, love, it's only for tonight. You gotta go to sleep now, anyway."  


"But...but c-can't if you don't s-sleep with m-me." His voice trembled and my heart ached.  


"Ray's going to stay with you until I'm back. You'll see I'll be there beside you by the time you wake up, I won't be out all night."  


"N-not the same I...no. S-stay."  


"Want me to wake you up when I arrive?" I offered.  


"Y-yeah."  


"Then I'll do that."  


"Let's get you to bed." Ray lifted Frank from the couch. There was no way to make the boy move once he'd reach that drowsy state. Ray had visibly worked out the muscles of his arms by carrying him around.  


I tucked Frank in with the sheets and a light blanket, left his glasses on the bedside-chair and handed him his carebear. Puppy hopped on and curled up on Frank's feet.  


"Good night baby, I'll let you know when I'm home." I leaned forward to kiss his lips and he pushed me down, not letting me go. After a long kiss Ray finally had to help untangling Frank's arms from around me.  


"Told you he's like a tick!" he laughed. "Ok, go before he traps you again."  


"I wouldn't mind if I hadn't agreed to pick up Bob at ten. Bye, Frankie! Bye, Ray...and thank you again, man!"  


******  


As I drove us, I filled Bob in with the details. He opined that I was a good investigator after all.  


"And how do we know that this guy's not going to tell us to fuck off? I mean, do you think he'll care about the kid?" he asked.  


"From what Tony's mother told me on the phone some time ago, he apparently did care when Frankie was a baby. And he wasn't even sure if he was the real father."  


"Is he?"  


"I've never seen Anthony myself, but when Linda's former neighbor saw Frank, she said he looked pretty much like him, specially the eyes," I explained.  


"He's cross-eyed too?"  


"You know? Frankie asked that woman the same! No Bob, she meant eye color and shape."  


"Ahh!"  


******  


When we entered the bar, it was already packed. I regretted not having thought of arriving earlier, since my idea was to get a spot as close to the stage as possible. I wanted to observe the man I'd be dealing with beforehand.  


"Fuck," I cursed.  


"What's your problem, you want in the front? Look, those three are leaving," Bob pointed.  


"Oh, hurry up then!" I grabbed Bob's arm and dragged him behind me.  


"Calm down, I can move on my own!"  


"Sorry." I grinned satisfied, sitting on one of the shiny, dark-wooden chairs that matched the table.  


It was a nice place. Fairly bigger than the other bars I had been to, but still small enough to maintain that intimate feeling. Except for the stage -which was already enlightened and waiting- the pub's style played with shadows and tenuous illumination. However, white lamps shaped as vertical cylinders hung above each table allowing customers to see each other's faces and whatever they were drinking.  


_Drinks._ People were having all kinds of drinks there, and the mixed smell of beer, wine, vodka and whiskey was inviting, yet enervating for me.  


"I promised Ray. I promised Ray and besides, I _need_ to be sober. Who would believe a drunk-ass telling them that a son who they thought dead for 14 years, is actually alive?"  


Bob frowned. "Gee-man, who are you talking to? I can't hear you."   


"No one, I was...pondering." I screamed over the loud music. It was too loud to converse and someone must have complained, because it was lowered just when I was in the middle of my phrase, making me feel like an idiot. Everybody looked at me, but they soon lost interest.

The waitress -a young, red haired girl with a funny fringe- acted shocked when I told her that I wanted a Coke."You sure?"   


"Not really, but I want a Coke the same, please," I responded earnestly. What happened next was even more shocking.  


"I want a Coke too, please," Bob ordered.  


"What? Do you feel fine, Bob?" I touched his forehead.  


"Yeah, I just thought it'd make it easier for you." He smiled and then rolled his eyes at the girl. "The things we do for friends!"

"I know!" she smiled. "I'll be right back with your sodas."  


Finally, the band was presented and they got on stage. I felt anxious, at first not daring to look up and face that person I was supposed to meet. Meanwhile I listened to their music, and it was actually very good. I was familiarized with blues since my father would always listen to his old vinyls when we still lived all together. Old-school rock -which I loved- had a lot of things in common with blues, also. I found myself enjoying it, nodding to the rhythm; sad lyrics filling my ears but not reaching my brain. I glanced at Bob and saw that he was into the band too, using his fingers as drum sticks on the table.  


"That one's Frank's dad, right? The one with the guitar?" Bob suddenly spoke and I looked up for the first time since the band had started playing. "They're pretty alike."  


I started by his shoes -black Adidas. Then my eyes traveled up to his worn off, blue jeans and his long sleeved, plain black t-shirt. He was playing a wide, brown electric guitar. I didn't understand much about brands and all that stuff, but I knew it was an old one; those that were larger than most of the more modern guitars and had a characteristic sound that seemed to take you back in time. I thought them elegant.  


Anthony balanced his body following the notes. His face was down and his eyes were closed, so I couldn't see much of him. Only his hair, which was darker and much shorter than Frank's, but was combed to one side and had the same waves. He appeared to be considerably taller, though.  


The current song was over and they all faced their audience. 

"Oh, my..." I muttered.  


Bob laughed. "Told you." 

Anthony looked exactly his age -around 36 from what I knew. If you paid attention to his face from the nose down, not much showed that he was related to Frank; maybe only the jaw a little bit. It was the rest of his physiognomy that amazed me. The cheeks, the forehead. Mostly the eyes, it was almost like looking at Frankie's huge ones. The shape, the long black eyelashes, the way the irises would change and seemingly shine when he smiled. I couldn't distinguish Anthony's color, but they were clear under the bright lights of the stage. Even their eyebrows were identically perfect and curved. I felt as if I was staring at Frankie 17 years later. A handsome grown up man. And I saw no evil in his look.  


"Wow, I think there's no doubt, uh?" I whispered into Bob's ear.  


"Not one!"

Minutes after their presentation ended, I saw the musicians make their way through the place and take a seat towards the center. It was only three out of the six, but Anthony was there. I waited for them to order their drinks, then I gathered courage and got up.  


"Aren't you going to wait a little more?" Bob questioned.  


"For what? For them to get drunk so they're more in the mood to kick my ass? No way, I better catch that man sober."  


"Gotta say you thought that well. Want me to go with you?"  


"No...thanks, Bob. Stay here and be alert just in case. They seem to be nice guys, but you never know."  


"Ok then, be polite!"  


I walked to their table trying to control my nerves. I was trembling, I was terrified. What I had to tell that man wasn't simple. It was big, huge, _terrible_ in a way.  


"Uh...hello," I started, the three men looking at me. I set my eyes on Anthony and he smiled, waiting for me to speak. Identical hazel eyes. "You're Anthony Iero, r-right?"  


"That's me," he assented.  


"I really need to talk to you, it's important."  


"If it's to hire us, he's the one in charge," he pointed at the older man besides him; the bass player, I remembered.  


"Oh no, it's s-something completely different, but...but I don't even know where to start." I fidgeted.  


"Do I know you?" Anthony asked intrigued, though still nicely. It was incredible how I could even recognize some of Frank's gestures in him. _Incredible_ because they hadn't seen each other since Frank was two years old.  


"No...you don't. I'm Gerard Way." I extended my shaky hand and he shook it.

"Please to meet you, Gerard. Now tell me, I can't imagine what it's about." He motioned for me to go on, but the words didn't want to come out.  


"I...uh...I need to t-talk to you about...your son," I let out in fear. He froze, and it suddenly crossed my mind that he could have had other kids. "Frank."  


"Wh-what...what _the fuck_ are you talking about? My baby...he died when he was 4 years old. What do you have to say about him, who are you?" He spat the words with more pain than anger, those familiar eyes immediately filling with tears.  


"Well he...he..."  


"What's happening here, Tony? Is this boy bothering you, babe?" The drummer appeared and hugged Anthony from behind, kissing his head.  


	48. Chapter 48

_Wasted days and broken dreams,  
let it all slip away from me.  
And if you pick up the pieces of a broken man,  
you'll find a fan of the family.  
Yeah, the family._

"I...I don't know Greg, he..." Tony looked up and kissed the other man's lips shortly, confirming my thoughts.  


"You _don't know?_ You're crying, Tony, and don't tell me it's nothing," Greg insisted. 

I stared at both of them petrified. While Anthony was average built, Greg was rather muscular and tough looking. Your typical drummer, you could say; no one you'd want to piss off.  


"Calm down, he's Gerard and wanted to talk to me..."  


"What are you looking at?" Greg interrupted the guitarist to address me. "Never saw two men together?"  


"Y-yeah, and I have no problem with it. If...if it helps I'm gay myself," I said timidly, not really thinking. What I had blurted out wasn't necessary. It could mean I would have less to confess later, but it might also do me a disservice.  


"Guess you're another one who had enough with women," Tony muttered bitterly.  


"Shh, told you to leave the past alone. Now...what were you two talking about, why are you so upset?" his partner pressed. The other two guys left the table and went outside.  


Tony hid his face in his hands. "Precisely. I _can't_ forget the past because he just brought it back."   


"What do you mean?" Greg's green eyes fulminated me. Anthony began to sob loudly and I tasted my own tears as they rolled down my cheeks. "Tony you're scaring me, what did this boy do to you?"  


"He s-said he wants to talk about my son, he knows his name! Wh-what can he say about my Frankie, uh? 14 years! My poor baby's been dead for 14 years!"  


"What the fuck? Tell me, Gerard..." Greg stood in front of me and held me by my t-shirt."...is this some kind of sick joke? You better have something intelligent to say or..."  


"F-Frankie's _not_ dead!" I nearly shouted. 

Greg released me and his stare shifted between Anthony and me. The first got up but stayed in silence, trying to process what I had just said. His face was bathed in tears and it made him look younger; he looked so much like Frankie that I had to cover my mouth to suppress a cry.  


"You...you two are s-so alike," I spoke with fear. 

Tony smiled, turning to Greg and hugging him. "I knew it, I knew he was mine. I've always known it. I...I could feel it, Greg."  


"Baby, I hate to tell you this but...how can you believe what this Gerard's saying? I have no idea what reasons he could have to make this up, maybe he's just confused but...your son's dead, Tony. You have the proofs."

After hearing that, Anthony pulled himself out of the embrace. He grabbed his hair with both hands and sat back down."I guess you're right. It's just that...this makes no sense, no fucking sense, Greg!"  


"Exactly, makes _no sense_. That's why I don't want you to get all worked up for nothing."  


I talked to Tony more calmly, seating in front of him. "I'm not lying, I swear, your son's alive. I know it's hard to believe because you've never seen me before. And I know you've been told that he was dead, that you were even given a death certificate. But the truth is that his mother had given him away, Frankie's alive and I know him." I'd been blunt, yes, but I needed to let it all out before they asked me to leave.

"ENOUGH! GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!" Greg yelled. He removed me from the chair and began to push me towards the front door.  


"PLEASE, LET ME TALK!"  


"GREG!" Tony stopped him. "We're _all_ gonna be kicked out if you don't control yourself!"  


"But..."  


"I feel it here..." he touched his chest. "...that I have to listen to what Gerard has to tell me. I just _have_ to. Why would he come to me with this if it wasn't true? I have no damn fortune, I'm not famous, I don't even have my own house! What could he get from this? Nothing! And he seems to know about me, I don't think it's a misunderstanding."  


"Well, you're right there, but how could your ex go as far as to..."  


"She was a bitch, Greg," Tony stated simply. "Gerard, can we talk somewhere else?"  


"Uh, ok. " Uncertain, I looked over to our table and waved at Bob, who came running.  


"I already paid the girl for our drinks," he said.  


"Everything's ok," I whispered, seeing his eyes full of doubt.  


"Who's that?" Greg questioned.  


"He's my friend Bob. I don't know you guys either after all, so if we're gonna leave this place he comes with us."  


"It's only fair." Anthony nodded. "Follow us."  


"Hey, Jake!" Greg called the singer. "We're gonna be outside for a while so you guys pay, alright?"  


"Ok!"

The couple walked through the door, me and Bob close behind. Once we left the bar, they headed left and turned round the corner to where an old, white van was parked. Tony retrieved a key out of his pocket and opened the back door. "Welcome to the Homeless Mobile, make yourselves at home." He invited us to get in. 

I suddenly felt calmer. In spite of Greg -who certainly scared me- Iero gave me a good vibe.  


The four of us sat as comfortable as possible in the reduced space of the car's floor, which was at least full of cushions to soften the hard surface. They were dusty, though still fluffy enough. The van smelled of cigarettes and snacks. I felt like I could use a smoke, but I didn't want to attempt any move that could put the drummer on guard.

"Tony, maybe you should show Gerard...it'd help him understand why it's so hard to believe what he's telling you." Greg placed his hand on the other's cheek while he talked.  


"You sure?" Anthony's voice cracked.  


"I know it's painful for you, but..." Greg finished the phrase in secret and Anthony assented, crying again. He continued to do so as he opened a deteriorated leather suitcase and pushed clothes and other stuff aside to reach the bottom.  


When he faced me again, he was holding a small, white urn. It was made of lustrous, painted wood and shaped as a chest, even with a tiny lock. The cover showed a pattern of pale blue flowers and vivid green leaves. I knew what it was, and it creeped me out.  


Anthony kept his eyes on the object, caressing it with the tips of his fingers, his copious tears crashing on it. A while passed by until he managed to escape his thoughts. He raised the box to my eye-level and I saw a little, rectangular silver plate.  


"See?" he murmured. Greg moved closer to him, rubbing his back. 

I read the plate.  


_Frank Anthony Iero_   
_1988-1993._   


"Oh, fuck..." I couldn't help my outburst. "...how could she...?"  


"She...Frank's m-mother..." Tony tried to speak through the pain.  


"Linda," I named her to demonstrate my knowledge.  


"Yes, Linda. When I came back..." he paused, doubting about whether to give me more information. "I...I was out for two years..."  


"...because you were in jail, I know," I completed his line. 

The drummer's expression communicated that he didn't like my attitude. Tony must have felt him grow tense and placed one hand on top of his. "It's ok Greg, it's the truth. I have nothing to hide." Then he looked back at me. "Guess you also know why I was there."  


"S-something about drugs?" I felt Bob nudging me. "He asked, Bob."  


"I see you're well informed. Yes, that was the _supposed_ reason why I spent two years of my life locked up. Really, I'd stopped dealing and had been clean for months. I'd even gotten a decent job so I could claim my son, I wanted him to live with me. I knew there was something wrong with Frank, but Linda would refuse to take him to the doctor. I once made the mistake of telling her that I'd do that myself and she banned me from seeing him. Of course, she said the reason was me being a bad example and a fucked-up...as if she was one to talk! That's when I decided to change my life and get my son back. I was on the right track, but you know...those kind of people I used to hang out with don't let you go that easily. Just when I was looking for a lawyer, the police broke into my house. They found stuff that wasn't mine, I was tricked. And who would have believed someone with my reputation?" The man got deeper into that subject as if he wanted to escape -or at least delay- the other, the one in his hands.  


"I still think your ex had something to do with that," Greg opined.  


"I don't know, and now I don't care. It's too late, too late," he repeated the last words, squeezing the white urn against his chest.  


"You don't have to talk about it, love."  


"Yes I _have_ to, Gerard needs to hear it, he already proved that he's not mistaking me for another person," Iero affirmed, then carried on with the account. " _Not once_ did Linda bring Frankie for me to see him while I was in jail. One day she came by herself and told me that the kid was badly sick so she couldn't expose him to more germs. I was left terribly worried. As soon as I was out I ran to see my son. At first I thought Linda wasn't home, 'cause she wouldn't answer the door. When she finally did, she looked at me and started to cry. I swear I'd never seen her cry that way. _Never_. It took her a long time to be able to speak."  


"What a good damn actress," I hissed furiously, but he didn't pay attention.  


"Then she made me sit and gave me a paper, a document. One...one saying that my 4 year-old son was _dead_. Can you imagine how that felt? Four fucking years old, a baby...just a baby. It was some kind of virus that had first affected his brain and eventually also his heart."  


"What the fuck?" I exclaimed.  


"Gerard, let him finish," Bob hushed me. 

I couldn't remain quiet while hearing all the lies that woman had told. Couldn't believe it, couldn't understand _why_. Was she already thinking about the money back then? Did she want to make sure that the kid wasn't with anyone who could link him to her? I honestly didn't know, but it was macabre.  


"I asked her to tell me where his grave was, s-so I could somehow be close to my son again. She cried even more, told me she couldn't stand the idea of...of his little body rotting six feet underground, so she'd chosen to c-cremate him. I thought I'd die myself when I heard that. Then she disappeared and came back with this...pretty cinerary urn. My son...in a box. How could I think that the beautiful young girl crying her eyes out in front of me could be lying, that she could be playing with something so serious? What doubt can you have after being handed your son's ashes, Gerard?" he sobbed desperately. 

Greg took the urn out of his hands and left it over the suitcase. Then separated his legs for Tony to be able to lean on his chest and surrounded him with his strong arms.  


"You never saw her again after that?" I inquired, not having any good answers for his questions. He was right, I would have believed that bitch too. You wouldn't think someone you used to love could be capable of something like that involving her own son. No one with a right mind would.  


"No. That day, after she told me about Frankie, I tried to hug her; I told her we'd get over it together. I was out of my mind, I couldn't think straight and momentarily forgot everything she had done to me. I was willing to stay and try to work things out with Linda. B-but she pulled away, said we were done and she didn't want anything to do with me anymore. She begged me to keep Frank's ashes and decide what to do with them because she needed to leave the bad memories behind and start a new life. In a minute I was out of her house, the door closed in my face and what was left of my s-son in my hands. I knew that she was upset, I could understand her being as torn up inside as I was, but I _hated_ her for pushing me out of her life at the worst moment." Anthony tried hard to keep himself together, taking deep breaths; but he finally gave in an fell into his boyfriend's arms like the broken man he was. "F-fuck...if only I could have been there I would have tried to save him. Or...or I'd have been with him until the end. Why?"  


"Don't think about that now, Tony. You can't go back and it's not your fault," Greg comforted him. They seemed to have forgotten about Bob and me again.  


I had no words to say and was crying too much to even try to speak. I took something out of my pocket and put it over the small white urn. It was a recent picture of Frank; he was sitting on a chair smiling impossibly wide with Puppy on his lap. 

Anthony caught a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye and jumped, crawling across the van's floor like a toddler that had spotted candy. He held it before his eyes and made a sound between whimpering and suffocating. "Oh...oh my God...oh my God oh my God oh my God..."  


"What the fuck did you give to him?" the drummer got closer to spy on it. "OH...GOD!"  


"He...he's s-so pretty and cute...isn't he?" Anthony asked Greg while touching the photograph. 

"He's beautiful, looks _too much_ like you...specially when you wear your reading glasses. I...I guess we'll have to trust this boy Gerard after all."  


Smiling, I looked at Bob who also had a huge grin on his face. "It was taken a few days ago." I informed them.  


"Yeah? B-but...he looks so young. By now he should be..." Tony faltered.  


"Oh, I know what you mean. He's almost 19, just very small. Everybody thinks he's much younger. It suits him perfectly, though."  


"Guess he got that from Linda. Greg..."  


"Yes?  


"This...this is...oh, God! My baby's _alive!_ He's fucking alive! Can you believe it?" He was now crying tears of joy.  


"I seriously never thought it possible, but I'm _immensely_ happy for you, babe." They kissed long and deeply, crying and laughing at the same time. Lying to my friend had been worth it, I knew now that I hadn't been wrong.  


"Oh my! Gerard, I have so many things to ask you about Frankie but first...how did you know him?" the renewed dad questioned.  


"Well...I found him more than four months ago at the other side of the country while back from a trip. He was...dancing among the cars in the middle of the street, so I _had_ to take him with me until I could find out what the problem was. He's still with me."  


"What was he doing there in the middle of the street?" he worried.  


"He thought it was a disco." I gave a sad smile.  


"Shit...what's wrong with my poor kid?"  


"At first, all I could get from him was that he'd been in a mental institution until two days prior to that. His mother -who had never visited him before- took him out of there and abandoned him in that spot where I found him. She said she couldn't pay for the place or the medication anymore," I told Anthony, knowing how difficult it would be for him. 

He gasped and rubbed his neck nervously. "What the fuck! That...bitch just... _dropped_ him there?"  


"Tony calm down, please."  


"No, Greg. I _won't_ calm down, she's worse than I ever thought! First, she told me he was dead when he wasn't. She had _given him away_. Then, she abandoned him in the street! G-Gerard... tell me, what does my Frankie have? Why was he in one of those places?" He didn't give me time to answer, he still needed to vent. "I've always known that he had some kind of problem. I remember when he was about five months old, Linda didn't let me see him for several weeks; I don't remember what reason she gave me. When I saw him again, something had changed. She said he'd just been ill. But then time passed by and...and he wouldn't try to speak or walk. He would barely react to what happened around him. M-my mother kept saying that he wasn't my son and I shouldn't care for someone else's 'retarded' baby, that he didn't even acknowledge me anyway. Fuck, how I hated my mother." He stopped for some seconds to recover. It hurt him too much to recall all that.  


Meanwhile I was making connections, coming up with an hypothesis. After Frankie fell from the table, Linda probably made up some excuse for Anthony not to see the baby so he wouldn't know he was hurt. Biggest asshole ever.  


Iero drank from a bottle of water Greg had passed to him and then went on. "I felt it in my heart that Frank was mine. Even if he hadn't been, I already loved that baby. And he _did_ notice me, he did. Whenever he cried or screamed, I'd massage his head very softly and he'd calm down quickly. Then I'd start drawing little circles along his arms, legs or back with my fingers until he fell asleep. Sometimes, before closing his yes, he'd look up at me and smile," he related, sniffing. I found it very sweet and thought of how Frank hadn't changed that much.  


 "Frankie's schizophrenic, rather severely. He also has mild brain damage. That last thing most probably made him develop schizophrenia a lot earlier than he'd normally have. Linda just...got rid of him because of his problems," I let Tony know. 

He seemed mortified, static. "Fuck! Couldn't I do _anything_ good for my son in _any_ fucking way?"  


"What are you talking about now? You couldn't have known your ex was lying, and you're not to blame for Frankie being mentally ill."  


"Greg's right, Anthony. Why do you say that?" I supported him.  


"My father was schizophrenic. It wasn't a serious case, but still. Indirectly...it's my fault."  


"You can't do anything against genetics," Bob got into the conversation for the first time. "Those things just happen, and all you can do is deal with them as well as you can. Frankie's very good at that, he's a sweet boy and he's happy most of the time. Gerard and his family have been of great help."  


"Also my friends," I added patting Bob's shoulder. "You and Ray are my life savers."  


"Tony, that's just...life," Greg added.  


"I guess, but...what about the brain damage? Is it because of the drugs his mother and I used to do? Oh, fuck..."  


"Anthony..." my hand landed on his shoulder. "Anthony, _no_. It's not because of it, Frankie wasn't born like that. Believe it. There are a lot more things that you still don't know, but I think you've had enough for tonight. You need time for the news I just gave you to sink in, first. We better meet some other day to keep on talking."  


"But I want to..."  


"I agree with Gerard, Tony. You know Frankie's alive and that's what matters."  


"I want to see him, Greg," Tony said with a hoarse voice.  


"I know, baby."  


"I understand. But Frank's mind is fragile and we've been through some hard times lately. These kind of things can't be done just like that. You can't just go and tell him you're his father. You need to know more about him, I need to know more about you, and I also have to talk to his psychiatrist first," I explicated, and Tony's eyes flooded again. "Listen: _I_ searched for you. _I_ wanted to find you, so you can be sure that I won't disappear."  


"I know..."  


"Frankie's ok. He can walk and move normally; he can talk, read, write, draw, play. He can get dressed, shower and eat by himself. He's a cheerful, funny, kind boy. He does have some limitations and needs to be medicated to have a close to normal life, sure. But he's brave, perseverant, and very smart in his own way," I relieved him.  


"You don't have an idea how happy it makes me to hear you say all that about him. Thank you, thank you..." Anthony moved forward and hugged me, a hug that transmitted his feelings even better than his words. I trusted him, he did care.  


"So, when are you free to have another talk?" I asked him.  


"Well, we have shows arranged for the whole following week..."  


"We could cancel them if you want, the guys would understand," Greg suggested.  


"I don't think it's a good idea, I need that money more than ever. You know I haven't had many requests this month," Tony pointed out.  


"He designs websites," his partner filled me in, correctly interpreting my curiosity. "However, we still don't have one for our own band."  


"Oh, shut up, you know I haven't had time. Besides, I wanna think of something special for it." Tony punched him and then talked to me. "It's one of the few jobs I can do while constantly traveling. I'm still paying for the laptop, though. The other guys all have little stores somewhere, they left friends or family in charge. You can't live on music unless you become famous."  


"Oh, but it's good that you could figure out how to still do what you love." I wondered how that man would do to see Frank often without abandoning his music career, but I was glad to know that he did have an alternative job.  


"So Tony, you need to decide," Greg reminded him.  


"We'll do the shows. They're all in near towns so it won't be a problem. We'll most probably be free either next Saturday or Sunday, where can I call you?"  


"Have a paper? Oh wait, I'll use this." I reached out for Frank's photo and wrote my cellphone number on the back. "You can keep it."  


"Again, Gerard...thank you."  


"You're welcome! It was great to meet you, I'm sure Frankie will think the same when he does."  


"Hope so, I really hope so. You're leaving?"  


"Yes, a friend is taking care of the boy and they're gonna worry if I take any longer."  


"Then go! I'll call you." Anthony went to shake my hand, but ended up giving me another hug. _That_ thankful he was.  


"Sorry for not being very...friendly at first," Greg excused himself.  


I shook his hand. "You were protecting the person you love, I understand that."  

What would they think when getting to know who my loved person was? Would they be okay with it? Would they understand our love? Would they think me a sicko?  


******  


Bob and I almost didn't speak on our way back. It had been a very emotional night, not something you lived very often. I was scared, of course, having no idea how things would work out from then on. I was preoccupied because I wanted Frankie and his father to reunite, but I didn't want to lose Frank myself. However, after meeting Anthony, I predicted a good outcome; one that would benefit everybody. It had been a positive night.  


When I got home I went to the bedroom without delay. Both boys were sound asleep, Ray sprawled on his back with a storybook across his stomach. Frankie must have been reluctant to close his eyes.  


It seemed like such a pity to wake up Ray, but I wanted him to see with his own eyes -even smell with his own nose if he wished- that I hadn't been drinking. "Hey, Ray...wake up," I whispered. He stirred and mumbled, keeping his eyes closed. "Ray!" I called just a little louder.  


"Uhm... what...who?" he voiced confounded. "Oh, Gee...you're back."  


"Yep. Listen, I'm gonna go take a shower because I smell like cigarettes," I reported. "So stay with Frankie for some more minutes."  


"Okay..."  


I gathered everything I needed and ambled to the bathroom. I came to a halt at the door, looking back with a smirk. As I had suspected, Ray was there. "I knew you'd come after me, anti-alcohol agent," I laughed. "I'm clean."  


"I'm just a worried friend, you know that," he returned tiredly.  


"I can walk a straight line," I paraded along the corridor. "I can stand in one foot and...wanna smell me?"  


"Uh, no. Enough, I know your drunken self and it's not this one. I'm proud of you, Gee. Sorry for acting like an anti-alcohol agent."  


"Nah, you're just a worried friend," I riposted.

Smelling like soap and in my pajamas, I knelt at the edge of the bed, hovering over Frankie. I cupped his small hands and kissed them, then pecked at the side of his mouth and spoke near his ear in a susurrus. "Frankie, baby I'm here."  


"Let him sleep, Gerard, it took me two hours to attain that!" Ray grouched.  


"I promised to wake him when I came home."  


"Fine, whatever," he puffed.  


"Frankie?" I repeated, and he opened his eyes slowly. "I'm back, love."  


"G-gee? Y-you're back!" He sat up like jet-propelled and pinned me to the bed, looking down at me and grinning. It hurt, but I kept that to myself. "M-missed you!"  


"Oh, missed you too!" I chuckled at his unexpected reaction. I thought he'd be barely awake.  


"L-love you!" He discharged his kiss-load all over my face, taking longer on my lips. After that he rescued the bedclothes from underneath me, lied down by my side covering us both with them and held me as if I was a giant teddy bear.  


"Good night, boys!" Ray said. "I'll be on the couch."  


"Ray, the living room is cold as fuck and it's too late to be looking for blankets. Why don't you stay here?" I patted the bed.  


"I...I don't think it'd be correct, Gee."  


"Oh, come on! You don't mind Ray sleeping with us, right Frankie?"  


"N-nope. I...I'll have t-two people to h-help me if...if ev-evil bugs attack. An-and it's w-warmer."  


"Evil bugs?" Ray laughed.  


"Y-yeah, they're un-under the floor and s-sometimes come out," Frankie replied solemnly.  


"I think this kid needs more sleep." I kissed Frank's forehead. "Ray, get in, I promise I won't tell your ladies that you slept with a gay couple."  


"Fuck off! Ok..." He took off his shoes and jumped into the bed, turning his back to us. "Goodnight again."

Frankie moved away from me and crawled to Ray's side, half-falling on top of him and kissing his cheek. "G-goodnight, Ray. Th-thanks for taking c-care of me," he expressed before speedily rejoining me. Good thing that my afro-ed friend and I were not diabetic. That had been overly sweet.

As I drifted off, my hand unwittingly made its way to Frank's head. My fingers moved in synchronicity, it was calming even for myself. All the lights were off, it was night outside; but in my mind I could see Frankie smile.


	49. Chapter 49

_I don't wanna miss one smile, I don't wanna miss one kiss,  
I just wanna be with you, right here with you, just like this.  
I just want to hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine,  
and just stay here in this moment for all the rest of time._

When I attempted to get out of bed the following morning -or better said midday- the tug I received at my right arm let me know that it was trapped. I painfully stretched the other to turn on the lamp. Frankie did not only have my arm but also Ray's left one clasped tightly over his chest. He looked absolutely peaceful and was smiling in his sleep. I delayed my visit to the bathroom a little and just sat there watching him, pleased to see that he was finally having nice dreams.

I wondered how he'd react after knowing that he had a father who did love him. I was certain that Anthony had always loved Frank and would love him even more after meeting him. Other than blaming his mother and himself for it, he hadn't shown any apprehension towards his son's mental problems when I told him. It's usually easy to read those kind of feelings in people's attitudes, and I had seen nothing of that in him. Another thing that had stricken me as a good sign was Tony being in a relationship with a man. That would spare me some trouble when the time for explanations arrived.

Sighing, I slid my arm out of Frank's grip and let his carebear take my place. I would have stayed there forever if it wasn't so late. I had thought of having some housework done after giving Frankie his pills earlier, but I was so groggy at the moment that I had opted for going back to bed. I'd obviously ended up oversleeping, the three of us had.  


Checking the clock yet again, I thought it better to skip breakfast and have lunch instead, so I went straight to prepare it. I had almost finished when Ray made his entrance with Frankie on his back.  


"Frankie sweetheart, I know you love to be carried but...try to use your feet a little more? Ray's not Iron Man!" I laughed.  


"B-but he loves I-Iron Maiden," he joked sleepily. "And...and I d-didn't ask him to c-carry me."  


"He's telling the truth, I invited him," Ray said, leaving Frank on a chair.  


"Cheaper than going to a gym to lift weight?"  


"Sure!" Ray showed his biceps.  


"Wh-what you talk 'bout w-weight? Y-you're calling me f-fat and you didn't g-give me a k-kiss yet." Frankie laid his head on the table dramatically. 

I moved the chair so he was facing me and with a hand on his neck I gave him a deep first kiss of the day. "I'm not calling you fat because you're not. You're just well-fed." I pinched his cheek.  


"Th-that's good?"  


"Of course, you're beautiful and healthy," I replied and he seemed content, returning the kiss.  


******

Ray spent almost the whole day with us. We watched Pirates of the Caribbean -with Frankie and me drooling over Johnny and Ray complaining about our girliness, played video games and told stories. All the time I tried to not think about my conversation with the older Iero the previous night, or it would be obvious in my face that there was something going on; at least for Ray. However, I caught him giving me questioning looks more than once. Was I that transparent? Did he have a secret thought-reading machine hidden in his afro?  


I temporarily escaped from Ray's suspicions, but I knew that the interrogation would come sooner or later. The later the better, so I'd have time to get myself organized and think very well about it all. It wasn't easy. The reunion with his father was supposed to be a good thing for Frankie, not an extra trauma. Caution and professional advice was needed. It was a big relief that Goldberg knew Frank's real story -except the part about me and him- and far from questioning our decisions, he was always willing to collaborate.  


I had noticed that Frankie was slowly going back to how he was before the doctor increased his medication. Sure, he was still usually quiet, but definitely not as zombified. Yes, he still got dizzy once in a while, but only when the meds kicked in. He was his talkative self again and even ran around the house with Puppy sometimes. He seldom had hallucinations, though he continued to talk about them and came up with the most delirious stories. I loved to hear them.  


He hadn't peed the bed those last nights, so he was hopefully also getting over what had happened that horrible afternoon at the dead-end alley. Now I was positive that this new step of my investigation would only bring good consequences and help erase the memory of my mistakes  


******  


When Ray left, it was still daytime. While we escorted him to the door, I felt the rather warm air blowing and got an idea. "Frankie, what do you say if we go for our last ice-cream of the season before the cold is here to stay?"  


He looked up surprised. "R-really? C-can we?"   


"Of course we can, or I would not ask!" I kissed him as we got back inside. "Go change into a pair of jeans, I'll get the money."  


"K-kay!" He ran to the bedroom but came back some minutes later, pantless and all gloomy.  


"What's wrong, honey? Why didn't you get changed?" I welcomed his hug and he sighed.  


"I....I d-don't fit in my j-jeans anymore. And...and the o-other ones are d-dirty," he whispered. 

I moved his face upwards with a finger and smiled tenderly. "Don't worry, I'll buy you new ones this week, ok?" I promised. Even though I didn't know how I would get the money, I wanted Frank to feel good with himself. 

He nodded sadly. "Y-you told me I'm n-not fat but...but I th-think I am," he said. 

I truly believed that he looked perfect with some extra pounds and he had never cared much about it so far.  


"Come with me." I took his hand and led him back into our room.

I scouted the closet for one of my old blue jeans that I knew Frankie would love. He had a special liking for the washed-out ones.  


"Try these." I handed him the pants. 

He eyed me hesitatingly, but put them on swiftly. They fit perfectly, even loose enough to not be a nuisance when sitting. I used to be more pudgy when I bought them.  


Frank checked himself in the mirror. "I l-like them."   


"See? They're mine and they fit you. Am I fat?"  


"N-no you're n-not." He shook his head.  


"Then neither are you." I squeezed him. "You're pinchable, huggable, and oh-so-kissable."  


"Y-you're all that t-too." He cackled.

******  


Frankie still acted scared when on the street, walking as close to me as humanly possible; yet not once did he ask to go home. His confidence reappeared immediately when we got to the ice-cream parlor. 

We decided for an indoor table that was next to the window and Frank plopped down on a chair with the list of flavors in his hand. "Wh-what you want, G-gee?" he asked me a couple of minutes later.  


"Uhm...chocolate and mint."  


"K-kay. C-can I tell the g-girl?"  


"Sure, love," I told him. 

He extended his neck, watching the girl walk among the tables. After a while he began to jump and move both arms around frantically to draw her attention. When he got what he wanted he suddenly blushed deeply, waving at her timidly. I couldn't stop laughing.  


"Yes, honey? I think you were calling me, right?" the girl in demand hid her laughter.  


"Uh...y-yeah."  


"Want me to order, Frankie?" I offered, seeing that he was going through a shy moment.  


"N-no, I do!" He straightened up and gave the list a last look. I knew he only did that to imitate what everybody else did, but he always chose the same flavors. "I...I want s-strawberry and...and v-vanilla. And m-my...uh...Gerard w-wants cho-colate with mint. Y-yeah, that."  


"Exactly!" It filled me with joy to see Frank act so confident, looking someone straight to their face who wasn't family or friend and speaking out with no complex.  


"Alright, sweetness! I'll be right back." The girl quickly pinched Frank's cheek and left. It had become the new tradition besides ruffling his hair.  


The events that followed were very similar to what you could expect to see in any cheesy, teen-love movie. Two boys, two ice-creams. Playful looks as they tasted their own, fixed glances as they crossed spoons to let the other try it. Both boys leaning over the table, one ice-cream forgotten for the moment while two mouths collected the sweet, creamy substance out of the other one; getting closer and closer until they met in a sweet, sticky kiss, tongues mixing chocolate, vanilla, strawberry and mint. The best mix they had ever known. Suddenly remembering the other ice-scream -already melting and dripping- the boys rapidly licked the cone, and from there up until their tongues collided again. And they kissed, and they giggled, and it wasn't a movie. It was reality and it _might_ have been cheesy, but we were loving it.

We eventually sat quietly to finish our respective ice-creams, our eyes keeping us connected.  


"Love you," I mouthed. 

Frankie pointed at himself and made a plus sign with his fingers, grinning from ear to ear. I would have jumped over the table to hold him and kiss him, but all I managed to do was watch him and smile like an idiot; I was deadly in love with that unique boy. 

He was the first one to react, shaking me out of my love-trance when he sat on my lap and I felt his lips on mine.  


A weird feeling, and urge to turn my head towards the street, caused me to end the kiss. Through the window I saw him: Gabriel, staring at us with sadness; or maybe it was just jealousy. I didn't like those kind of coincidences, I distrusted them. He continued to walk as soon as he met my stare, and when I look back at Frankie I realised that he had seen Gabriel.  


"Wh-who was?"  


"Uh...eh, no idea," I lied. I didn't think he should know, not for the moment. It could hurt him, or scare him.  


"H-he was looking at us l-like that 'cause...'c-cause we were k-kissing and we're b-boys?" he asked. 

I laughed deep inside at the irony. "Could be, I'm not sure. But we scared him away, I guess!"  


"Y-yeah we did!"  


******

Back at home we went to take a shower. Maybe it was due to the warm climate, maybe it was the product of our previous public display of affection; the thing is that we couldn't keep our hands off each other during the whole time. Nothing got really sexual, anyway.  


We stepped out of the bathtub. I dried him off and he dried me off, both rubbing each other slowly and sensually with the towels. Frankie looked up at me from where he was crouched, drying my feet as I sat down. He absently licked his lower lip, and what had been already impossible for me to avoid became evident. He got up and I checked him down. There was no hard-on. He'd seen mine, though, and he was giggling.  


"Uhm..."  


With the two of us naked as we were, Frank grabbed my hand and got out of the bathroom. He ran along the corridor dragging me behind, and he was still giggling. 

We entered the bedroom and what happened next wasn't exactly what I -or anyone- would have expected after witnessing the way we had been behaving. But this was _Frankie_ , so anything was possible.  


He stood on the bed and pulled at me. I obediently climbed, glancing at him puzzled. Then he started to jump happily like a little kid, higher and higher each time. "C-come on, G-gee!" he encouraged me. 

I couldn't refuse, I jumped too.  


And there we were, naked, using the mattress as a trampoline. I hadn't done that in a long time and it felt great. It felt awesome to forget about how old I was or what people would think of me if they saw me. All I could do was chortle along with Frankie.  


"It...It's j-jumping too...l-look!" Frankie pointed at my lasting erection, laughing maniacally. I'd honestly forgotten about it. "M-mine's sleeping...shh! D-doesn't want to j-jump!"  


"Frankie...calm down, you're gonna fall." I tried to hold him but he avoided me, stuck out his tongue and bounced around me. He was laughing to the point of coughing but managed to chant at the same time.  


"Gee's th-thingy likes to j-jump, F-frankie's thingy's laaazy." The multitasking made him lose his balance; his foot got entangled in the quilt and he felt forwards, taking me down with him.  


"Ufff." I released all the air in my lungs at once, wincing in pain and not only in my shoulder. 

Frankie just laughed even more and began to kiss my neck, my cheeks, my mouth. That only added fuel to the warm feeling of his body on mine. The pain was gone and I couldn't suppress a moan. More giggles. More kisses.  


But I felt like I had to put an end to it, I couldn't let this situation prosper. Frankie seemed too out of control, I wasn't sure if he knew what he was doing and as he had said himself, he was 'asleep' down there.  


"Frankie, baby, you need to take your pills now," I told him, using a real fact to detain things without having to reject him.  


"L-later," he whined stubbornly, pouring kisses from my forehead to the tip of my nose.  


"It's already late, we can't wait any longer." I brushed his wet hair off his face. 

He pouted and sighed, getting off me without a word. Had I made him angry?  


"W-wait," he said annoyed, lifting his hand to stop me from going after him.  


"Frankie...love, wait!" I called him, but he left the room. 

Frank came back soon after with a glass of juice and something else in his other hand. He showed me the exact dose, one and a half of his pills. I knew that he hadn't needed to split any, I'd given him the other half of it in the morning. I had a different worry, though: the pills were on the tallest part of the kitchen's counter.  


"How did you get them? Did you step on...?"  


"Shh!" Frankie silenced me with a finger on his lips. He opened his mouth big and placed the meds -without any candy covering them- as far back as he reached and downed them with the juice. He winced and had some trouble with it, but endured it.  


"G-gone." He showed me his tongue. "H-happy now?"  


"Yes..." I was lacking words. Frankie had suddenly gone from being hyper and childish to acting totally mature. He had succeeded at making me shut up.  


"G-good." He fell on top of me again, resuming his previous actions and grinning playfully. I didn't know which one of his versions I was with anymore. All of them together, I guessed.

"F-frankie please, you..." I wanted to stop him and at the same time I didn't. It was a huge contradiction between what my head said and what my heart and body felt. While I was trying to say something, my hips would buckle to temptation. Three more times I tried, three more times I failed. 

Frankie froze and looked at me with his mouth hanging open. "I th-think my thingy w-woke up." He blushed, giggled, and soon was kissing me again. I didn't fight it anymore.  


We got into a heated make out session. Naked skin covered in sweat from the jumping and the need. Tongues, hands, moist hair, legs; all intertwined. Wanting to find a better angle, Frankie fell to a side. Since he was clinging to me he rolled us both over, me landing on him. Not really thinking, I made his legs apart just to feel his body closer. I realised that I had made a mistake when I sensed him tense.  


"N-no..." he babbled, closing his legs. 

I didn't reply, only kissed his forehead and switched our positions with a swift motion. The worry on his beautiful features disappeared and he laughed, the laugh melting into a pleasure whimper as he pressed his groin to mine.  


He smirked at me then, and we were spinning anew. I kept my legs at each side of his this time so I would not scare him, kissing a trail from his navel to his lips. He shuddered, giggled, moaned, giggled, sighed, giggled, got goosebumps all over as he giggled some more. I followed the inverse path so I'd have the privilege of hearing it all in replay. I came to a halt on his round, inviting belly, where I kissed and slightly sucked at the very soft skin.  


"Oh it...it t-tickles! T-tickles, Gee!" He twisted his body, creating more friction. One more spin, more laughter, more pants.  


We carried on rolling back and forth, staying conscious enough to not fall off the bed. My shoulder had considerably hurt the first few times that it was forced to support my weight, but once pleasure won over me any ache was forgotten. We laughed while we rolled, caressed, touched and licked each other. _Endlessly_ rolling, our hips loving the movement and the friction; bodies together in their entirety for the first time, no fabric in between. And it felt _right_.

The dizziness that the continuous change of position provoked was an additive to passion that I had never experienced before. It was exciting, mind-blowing, sexy, fun. I loved it, Frankie loved it, and we didn't stop at any moment. Not even when we felt high and we were a sweaty mess of limbs and skin and hair and saliva. We still rolled, rocked and rolled.

I could not remember for the life of me if I was on top or at the bottom when it shook me, and it felt even warmer and wetter in between us. We could as well have even been half the way, chaotically kissing side by side. It was too strong of a feeling and it sent me into such an oblivion that the details escaped me.  


I was sure, however, that Frankie was beneath me when he didn't try to spin anymore. When one hand left my neck and seized the sheets. When by his own decision he parted his legs and embraced my waist, crying out like the pleasure was too much for such a tiny boy yet welcoming it the same, wanting to make it last. His other hand on my cheek as I observed him closely, not missing one gesture.  


"Ow...G-gee...so...g-good," were the first words spoken. He went limp in my arms and I carefully lied him on the pillow. Lied _us_ , because I didn't let go of him.

Frankie opened his heavy eyelids and smiled lazily. He was exhausted, and now that the action was over the pills were working faster. My head was still spinning. In silence we kissed, slowly and satisfied, and then he tucked his head under my chin. My hand couldn't get enough of the softness and ran along his back.  


"Th-thought I was g-gonna die," he whispered all of a sudden. "S-so...dunno. Wow."  


"But you liked it? 'Cause I loved it, a lot." I kissed his head.  


"Y-yes...good. V-very..." he trailed off. "I...I th-think I'm g-gonna puke."  


"Wh-what? Oh, fuck..." I got up in a hurry and carried him in my arms, forgetting about my shoulder. My legs weren't responding and I couldn't walk straight, but I made it to the bathroom. It had been too much spinning for us.

"Here." I left him on his knees in front of the toilet and collected his hair back. He just sat on his heels and leaned on my legs.  


"Frankie, are you okay?"  


"N-no puke, w-want to sleep," he changed his mind.  


"Oh, my love..." I smiled. 

Taking some toilet paper, I got it wet and cleaned our body fluids off our legs and stomachs. Finally, I breathed deeply and lifted Frankie, who fell asleep before I made it to the bed. After finding clean boxers for me and him I lied down, covering us with the bedclothes.  


Ice-cream had been our dinner that day, so I guessed that what came after was dessert. We skipped any real meal and slept until the next late morning.

******  


The first thing I saw when I entered the kitchen -my shoulder sore from all the effort- brought me back to one specific moment from the night before. Right in front of the counter was a chair with a big, thick book on its seat. That's how Frankie had reached the pills.  


I couldn't help blaming myself for what could have happened, even if nothing had. It wasn't only about the peril of him falling down, but also because he shouldn't be allowed to dispose of the medication. You couldn't always trust him to know what he was doing. There was the possibility that he might overdose, take pills out of the schedule, or even throw them all down the drain. It was true that he acted pretty lucid sometimes, but the psychiatrist had been clear: Frankie would never be cured. There was no cure for schizophrenia and no guarantee that he would act the same way for two days in a row, or even hours.

Nonetheless and leaving the risks aside, I was amazed at his behavior. He had reacted as any moody teenager would if their boyfriend interrupted an intimate moment to bring up such a turning-off subject as medication, and he had consequently done what any grown up would.

I was still going over that same thing -plus our incredibly wonderful love session- while setting all for breakfast, when Frankie appeared. He was only wearing sweatpants and embracing himself.  


"G-good morning," he said sweetly, hugging me. 

I kissed him and noticed that he was shivering. "Good morning, baby...why are you shirtless and barefoot? It's cold..."  


"D-dunno. I c-couldn't find?" he yawned.  


"I think you're not completely awake yet, wait here." I chuckled, heading for the bedroom. I came back with a hoodie, socks and his sneakers; and let him take care of that while I finished making toasts.  


"Frankie?"  


"Y-yeah?"  


"I'm not mad at all, but please don't _ever_ try to reach the pills by yourself again, ok? _I_ give them to you. I don't want you climbing chairs, and even less chairs and books," I told him. Whether Frank was able to incorporate all the rules or not, I had always thought that I'd be insulting his intelligence if I didn't even try to settle some.  


He looked at the floor "B-but I didn't f-fall." 

I got closer and took his very shaky hands in mine. "I know love...but you could have. Your equilibrium isn't usually good and you sometimes get dizzy. I don't want you to get hurt, do you understand?"  


"Y-yeah. I...I w-won't do it again, p-promise." He looked me in the eye.  


"Ok. Now...will you have your pills with just juice like last night?" I tested him.  


"N-NO!"  


"But you did well!"  


"Y-yes but 'c-cause...'cause I w-wanted to make it f-fast so you'd let me k-kiss you more." He grinned. "D-don't like it th-that way. Th-they're raspy."  


"Let me get you your special candies then." I pecked his lips. "Or you prefer them on a toast?"  


"T-toast!"  


"Okay."  


"W-with strawberry m-marmalade," he added, as if it was necessary.  


"Right away!" I made a reverence and his giggles sent my thoughts back to the previous night.  


It was hard to believe that this boy with the childish look and voice was the same one that had enjoyed that as much as I. Although not that hard if I thought of how what we did had kept a playful feeling, some sprinkles of innocence along with the emotional and sexual fulfillment. Yes. Rethinking it, it _was_ the same Frankie. It wasn't like he had multiple personalities. They were only different facets of the same one, always guarding his essence.

"Do you need help with your cereal?" I offered, seeing him stare alternately at the bowl and the restless spoon.  


"Y-yes, please? M-milk spills too e-easy. An-and I'm so v-very hungry."  


"Then come and get aboard the Geeseat, also known as...my lap," I sillily joked, but he actually found it funny. 

Laughing, he sat on my legs and avidly ingested the spoonfuls of cereal and milk I took to his mouth.  


"G-gee?" he asked when he was almost done. "Wh-what we did l-last night...was it...uh...m-making love?"  


"Well," I rested my chin on his shoulder, thinking of a simple answer. I didn't consider 'making love' a synonym of 'having sex'. It had more to do with the connection, the feelings, with sharing and making the person you loved feel good. And there wasn't only one way to achieve that, but many. "what we did...was to give each other love, wasn't it?"  


"Y-yes!"  


"We demonstrated our love physically...with our bodies, and we enjoyed..."  


"Y-yeah...a lot!"  


"Then I say that we made love. Of course, there are other...things that could be done, what people call 'having sex', but it's not really necessary," I explained, hoping I wasn't confusing Frankie. 

He was silent for some seconds. "L-like what John d-did to me?" he inquired, voice cracking.  


"Yes but...uh...as we've told you, the way _he_ did it was wrong. When done in the right way, with both people wanting to, it shouldn't be that painful. You're supposed to feel good. It _could_ hurt a little, it's normal, but the nice sensations should be a lot stronger than the possible pain and help you forget about it. Mostly...and I'll repeat this because it's important, you should be prepared for it and really _want_ to do it. Otherwise the other person would be forcing you and that's plain wrong."  


"K-kay," was his apathetic answer.  


"Are you sure you understood everything I said? You can ask me if you have doubts. It's important that you have all this clear," I insisted.  


"I un-understood. Th-there's still cereal th-there," he pointed into the bowl, having lost interest in the other subject. I decided to drop it.  


"I know, I know! You won't even leave something at the bottom for Puppy to lick, uh?"  


"P-puppy has his own f-food. G-gimme."  


"Yes, sir!"  


Frankie never had much patience or a long enough attention span for difficult explanations, which worried me when thinking of the conversation I would have to endure soon to tell him about his father. We luckily had Goldberg; he was the expert and would know how to proceed. Of course, my problems wouldn't end there. There would be dozens of things to take care of, like telling my family and Ray.  


One thing I could be sure of: my life since I met Frankie had been anything but boring.


	50. Chapter 50

_So take the photographs and still frames in your mind,  
hang it on a shelf in good health and good time.  
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial,  
for what it's worth it was worth all the while._

On Wednesday, I drove Frankie to his weekly session with Goldberg. I had called the psychiatrist that same morning while at the store to let him know the news in advance. Even _he_ reprimanded me for taking a new risk after what had happened weeks ago. I had to beg him not to tell my mother, promising I'd do it myself in time.

After the hour alone with Frankie, Goldberg opened the door and called his secretary. "Alright Frankie, now you'll go with Melissa while I talk to Gerard, ok?"  


"N-no, wanna s-stay," Frank replied clinging to me.  


"Not even if she lets you use the computer?" the doctor added. 

Frank glanced at the girl enthusiastically. "R-really?"  


"Yep, come with me." She smiled offering her hand.  


"K-kay." Frank took it and sped towards the reception, the secretary trying to keep the pace in her high heels. 

Goldberg and I walked into his office laughing. 

"I noticed him much better this week," he started. "Still more distant than usual, but definitely progressing. Or well, to be more exact, going back to how he was before having the relapse. Which at this point, we can say it's the best he can be."  


"I think it's enough." I nodded. Compared to how Frankie was when I found him, his current state was more than perfect.  


"Coincidentally, Frank's own words were 'my head's good enough'. Nonetheless, we'll have to keep on working on the insecurities the attack left on him. He's slowly getting over it, but I don't want to disregard it."  


"I agree, he's still a little scared when going out." I bit my lip before continuing. "Now...about Frank's father..."  


"First of all, are you one hundred percent sure that man's Frankie's father?"  


"Well, I guess we'd need a DNA test to be that certain; but after talking to him I'm pretty sure he is. Names, dates, facts, allcoincide. What's more, he looks a lot like Frankie. I _know_ he's Frank's dad," I answered convincingly.  


"Ok. You're aware this is a delicate situation, aren't you?" he warned, eyes piercing to make a point.  


"Yes, and that's why I told you about it; I want to do things well. But I think they have the right to meet, Anthony loves Frankie and he thought him dead all these years!"  


"I know, and this _could_ be also good for Frankie if everything went well. Sadly, even being careful, we have no way of knowing how he'll react, what effect this will have on him. Are you decided to try anyway?"  


"Yes," I accented. I'd already told Tony about his son, it was too late to take it back and I had a good feeling.  


"Then to start with, we need to know Frank's idea of a father, how he thinks fathers are or should be. He's never had a paternal figure, only maternal ones. So any concept he might have created, is surely not based on personal experience," he explained. Now that I thought about it, Frankie had never talked about dads. I couldn't even remember if he'd ever mentioned the word.  


"And how do I do that?" I questioned. "Do I just ask him?"  


"No, that'd be too abrupt and would only confuse him. You have to prepare the environment, bring on the subject in an indirect way. For example...Frankie doesn't know your father...right, Gerard?"  


"No, he lives across the country."  


"Do you have a good relationship with him? Sorry if I sound indiscreet..."  


"Oh no, it's fine. Yes, both Mikey and I have always gotten along with him. It's just that since he found that job and left it's been hard for us to get to see him. We're lucky if that happens twice a year." I saddened; not because of the doctor's question but the fact that I missed my dad. Sometimes I didn't realise how much until I was reminded of him.  


"You could show Frank some family photographs. Make sure your father's the only person unknown to him among them, including more could disperse his interest. Tell him who is who and I'm positive he'll ask you about him. Let him know why he doesn't live with you or the rest of your family, and answer any question he might ask. Remark that your father loves you and your brother, and if he's not with you is only because _he can't_. That will help Frank understand that there are different kinds of fathers, and that doesn't mean they love their kids any less."  


"Sounds good, I can manage that. Frank's really curious so he'll make lots of questions for sure," I told Goldberg. "And what then?"  


"It'd be better if the boy could first meet Anthony without knowing he's his father. It'll be hard for that man, but you have to explain to him this is all for Frank's well being. Arrange a meeting at a public place and let them talk, but stay with them. See how much they have in common, pay attention to Frank's attitude; if he seems nervous, afraid or just comfortable. Depending on that we'll talk again and decide on the next steps," he proceeded.  


"Ok! Thank you very much."  


"You're welcome, and good luck!" He shook my hand and accompanied me to the front desk.  


Frankie was sitting on Melissa's chair in front of the computer. She was leaning above him from behind, guiding his hand on the mouse.  


"What are you playing, Frankie?"  


"I...I'm k-killing planets," he said, his eyes very close to the screen.  


I looked at the points he had gathered. "Oh, seems you've 'killed' a lot already, uh?"   


"Uh-oh. C-crashed me."  


"But you lasted long, you're good!" the girl congratulated him.  


"'C-cause you helped m-me."  


"Only a little, you were the one firing."  


"Well, you finished your game so let's go." I indicated Frank to get up.  


"N-no, wanna p-play again!"  


"We gotta go, Frankie."  


"N-no pleeeease. Y-you don't h-have a computer."  


"I don't have the money to buy one..." I grew sombre. I was conscious of the many things boys his age loved and I couldn't give him because of putting his health first. He noticed that and released the mouse, getting off the chair to hug me.  


"Oh...I kn-know. D-don't be s-sad? W-wanna go home and p-play something? M-maybe puzzles." He kissed my cheek. "Y-yeah that can b-be fun."  


"I'd love to."

It was very touching to see Frankie so worried thinking that he'd upset me with his comment. He hadn't meant it, that was clear. He was just too spontaneous.

As soon as we got home he told me to sit in front of the coffee table, filled me with kisses and went for the puzzles. We spent a couple of hours working on them while listening to The Cure. Frankie got the smaller ones assembled and then sat on my lap to watch me put a big landscape together. He didn't have the patience to even try those and got frustrated just by seeing how many pieces of similar colors they had.

"Kn-know, Gee? I d-don't care that we d-don't have a c-computer. R-really! W-we have lots of g-games and toys and that's f-fun too! And..." he whispered in my ear, giggling. "...m-making love is f-fun, too."  


"You're incredible, you know?" I laughed.  


"N-nope, just s-special."  


******

We had finished dinner and surprisingly, Frankie didn't seem as sleepy as usual.  


"Bored?"  


"Y-yeah, very m-much bored."  


"Wanna see some old photos of me and my family?" I suggested, thinking it was a good opportunity. I had selected the pictures earlier while Frankie was watching TV.  


"Y-yes!"  


"I'll go get them. I don't have many here, we can see more next time we go visit my mom."  


"Oh, k-kay, but w-wanna see what you h-have now," he averred.  


I came back from the bedroom with a small pile of old photographs. Sitting next to Frankie I passed him the first one, where you could see little me on a blue couch with Mikey on my lap. We were both smiling widely, showing our tiny white teeth. My teeth had _stayed_ tiny, even after I lost my baby ones. "This is me and Mikey. I was 8 and he was 4," I informed.  


"Awwww!" Frank chuckled. "Th-the two of you w-were kinda fatty but so c-cute! And...and y-you were p-prettier than him."  


"You think?"  


"Y-yes I do."  


"This is Mikey at 12, in his school uniform." I gave him the second pic. My brother had the sourest face ever in it. His big glasses were propped on the tip of his nose and his sandy hair was pasted back with gel. He was the very image of misery, and yet my mom had insisted on taking a pic as she'd do every year on the first day of school.  


Frankie stared at it and covered his mouth.  


"You can laugh..." I snickered myself.  


"OH M-MY GOD!" he screamed and fell to the floor, laughing loudly. It was always hard for him to stop once he started laughing like that.  


"I know, that pic's terrible!"  


"Ahhh...m-more?" he asked, finally recovered after five minutes.  


"Uh...me at 14. See? You say you're fat? _This_ is fat!" I pointed at the chubby me with an almost bowl haircut.  


"N-no it's not. S-still say you w-were pretty. D-don't like the h-hair, though. Ew"  


"I agree with that!"  


"An-and who's with y-you?" He placed his finger on the taller boy beside me.  


"I was waiting to see if you'd know...that's Ray!"  


"Y-you're a l-liar!" he accused me.  


"I'm _not_ lying! It's Ray Toro!"  


"N-no it's not...wh-where's the 'f-fro?" he pointed out.  


"He used to hate his hair when we were kids, so he'd keep it very very short."  


"B-but his 'fro's awe-some!" Frankie said frowning.  


"I know! But he didn't accept it until he was a lot older. Silly, right?"  


"Y-yes!"  


"Here you have my mom, I think this was before Mikey was born." I showed him a black and white photograph of her wearing a mini skirt and a blouse with huge sleeves. Her hair was darker and straightened, so she looked completely different.  


"D-donna? D-doesn't look l-like her. N-no. D-don't tell her but...b-but she looked p-prettier here," he commented honestly. "B-but I like her n-now too the s-same. And sh-she's very nice and l-love her as if she w-was my mom."  


"She loves you as if you were her son, too." I kissed him, seeing his eyes watering a little.

I contemplated the next pic in my hands indecisively. It was of my father about ten years ago; with his always short and boring black hair, a halfway smile and that hard look that made him seem severe when he really wasn't that much. "This is...Donald." I left the pic on Frank's lap, not even completing the information. I was afraid of screwing up.  


"L-like the d-duck?" He grinned amused.  


"Yep, like the duck."  


"And...wh-who's he?"  


"My dad. And Mikey's, of course," I responded. 

A surprised expression appeared on Frank's face. "Y-you have a d-dad?" His question's tone denoted the same astonishment. I could feel that it wasn't just because I had never talked about my father before. He asked it like it was a big thing, something out of the ordinary, a privilege of a few. And I was, after all, privileged. I'd always had a whole family who loved me.  


"Yes..."  


"B-but...but wh-where's he? H-he doesn't live with y-your mom or...or anywhere 'c-cause I n-never saw him! N-no...never." He rubbed his temples, confusion and curiosity obstructing his thinking process. 

I abandoned the photographs over the table and moved Frankie to my lap, holding him. "No, you never saw my dad because he lives far away. Remember when I found you, how far it was from here?"  


"Y-yes. Th-the car r-ride was fun. S-sometimes. S-sometimes boring, y-yeah."  


"Well, my dad lives near that place. I had been visiting him that day before finding you," I told him. 

He looked up, blinked several times and shook his head. "N-no no that's w-wrong. D-dads have to l-live near their k-kids! He...he d-doesn't love you and M-Mikey? He n-never comes s-see you. L-like my mom, she n-never came see me wh-where I l-lived. Th-then she came and...and t-took me with her b-but she d-doesn't love me, r-right? Sh-she forgot me th-there in the s-street. M-moms don't f-forget their kids, and...and she d-didn't even k-kissed me. She d-doesn't love me 'cause I'm s-special. D-doesn't love m-me, does she G-gerard?" He sniffed, not exactly changing the subject, just linking it.  


Answering with the truth was cruel, yet lying was pointless. "No, babe. I don't think she loves you, I'm sorry," I chose the truth, my fingers running through long locks of hair and my other arm tightly around Frankie; a vain attempt to protect him against the cruelty of the affirmation. "But you don't have to be sad, a _lot of people_ love you now. And she's just an idiot who lost the opportunity of taking care of a great kid like you."

And for the first time Frankie cried for his mother; twisting my shirt in his fists and leaving tears and snot on my shoulder like a lost little child. I did nothing more than be there for him, it seemed like it was all he needed.

"S-stupid bad m-mom," he mumbled, drying his eyes with my sleeve.  


"Asshole," I contributed, knowing it was his favorite insult. His smile was hardly perceptible. 

"G-gee, your d-dad doesn't love M-mikey and you e-either?" he repeated the question, the one that had been forgotten after his own pain surfaced.  


"He loves us very much. He doesn't live with my mother because they divorced."  


"Wh-what's that?"  


"It means...they decided that they didn't want to be a couple anymore, it happens sometimes. But my father loves us all the same."  


"N-no but...why he n-never comes or you d-don't go see him m-more?"  


"Because...he found a job that was a lot better than the one he had here, but he needed to move to a different city. It's too far away and he works a lot; and I work too and Mikey goes to college, so we can't visit as often as we'd like. He does call us, and sometimes he comes for Christmas, or for our birthdays," I explicated.  


"B-but..."  


"Baby...there are many reasons why parents sometimes don't live with their children or see them much. That doesn't always mean that they don't love them. Of course, _there are_ some assholes who just don't want their kids, but others just _can't_ be with them and they suffer a lot for it."

"Ahh...th-that sucks. I...I d-don't have _any_ d-dad." He shook his head. I waited, for I didn't want to ask any direct question about it. I continued to stroke his hair, giving him time to put his thoughts in order. "I h-had a friend that sh-shared his dad with m-me. H-his brain was b-broken too. L-like mine."  


"The dad's?" I said just to participate and make it easier for him.  


"N-no, silly! The...the k-kid's brain. He s-speaked okay..."  


" _Spoke_."  


"H-he spoke okay b-but walked weird and 'c-could not grab th-things well, d-dropped them. O-other kids said he was r-retarded, too. N-not true!" he gesticulated lividly.  


"And he shared his dad with you?" I tried to bring him back to the main subject. He had started to yawn and I wanted to finish the talk before he fell asleep.  


"Y-yes- His m-mom was sick at a h-hospital and his d-dad had to work m-more, dunno why. S-so they left T-tommy there 'till his m-mom was fine. And...and the d-dad's job let him c-come visit him ev-every day for a little wh-while. An-and Tommy told him I w-was his friend and had no d-dad and mom, and h-his dad invited me to p-play with them. B-but then Tommy l-left;" Frankie remembered.  


"How old were you back then?"  


"Uh...th-thirteen or...or m-maybe fourteen. Y-yeah. T-tommy was e-eleven. H-his daddy was c-cool! I...I like th-those dads, d-dads must be n-nice and play and s-say funny things and m-make you laugh. On...on TV I s-saw bad dads, t-too. S-some scream at th-their kids or...or hit th-them!" he said. 

I thought of Tony and how he would have loved to see his son grow up. Frankie wouldn't have had to wait until he was thirteen to know how having a father could feel. He wouldn't have needed to borrow one.  


"Anyone can be good or bad, Frankie. Even dads and moms. Luckily, many of those kids with bad parents are able to find other people to love them."  


"L-like I have y-you and Donna and ev-everybody now?" He smiled wider.  


"Yes, and since you're such a good boy you might find even more people, who knows?" I threw in inconspicuously. Somehow I could imagine Anthony as the father Frankie would have loved to have. The one he could _still_ have.  


******  


Anthony had called to say he'd be free on Saturday, and we were going to meet at the same bar. The problem, once again, was what to do with Frankie while I was out talking to his father. No way I could tell Ray the truth yet, neither did I want to lie to him anymore. So I decided to leave him out of it this time and recur to my other friend, the one who already knew: Bob. He wasn't the best, most responsible choice as a 'babysitter', which was the reason why I had never left Frank with him so far. But he was a nice guy; and seeing him decline alcohol for me a week before had proved what a great friend he could be. He was sometimes immature, but I was sure that he'd take good care of Frankie.

I could hear the happiness in Bob's voice when I asked him to stay with the boy for some hours that evening. He didn't have anything to do, and said that even if he had, he'd choose spending time with Frank over most other activities. They always had a lot of fun together, just like any two friends would. I loved that, loved that Bob was becoming Frank's friend as much as he was mine; or even more.

I was prepared to leave when Bob arrived. He was shaved -like Frankie had randomly shouted at him to do through the phone- and carried a big bag. He got the bag off his shoulder and left it on the table with ease, which told me that it either contained something very light or Bob was stronger than I thought.  


"What do you have there, Bob?" I interrogated him nearing the suspicious object. 

He instinctively grabbed it back and held it against his chest. "Just...some boardgames, a pack of cookies and...oh! My jacket because I didn't feel like wearing it now."  


" _Only_ that?"  


"Yeah, I know the bag's too big, but I couldn't find the smaller one," he argued. "Where's Frankie?"  


"Right there!"  


Frank jump-hugged him, almost knocking him down. "B-bob, you sh-shaved!"   


"Of course, I don't want you saying that I look old. By the way, I have a doubt: don't _you_ shave?"  


"N-nope, those th-things are sharp s-so I can't t-touch them. N-no never, Grace s-said and G-gerard said. G-gee shaves me s-sometimes. B-but almost doesn't g-grow." He touched his chin.  


"He only grows soft light hair, it takes long to show."  


"Oh, more or less like Gerard! " Bob laughed. "Well...better for you, Frankie boy, facial hair would not suit you."  


"Ewww, n-not at all."  


"Boys...I'm leaving. Behave, ok? Bob please, be an adult," I said, giving Frankie a good-bye kiss.  


"Will do!" Bob promised.

******

Anthony and Greg smiled when they saw me enter the bar and instantly got up to hug me. I tried to return the smile, but deep inside I was worried and feeling bad for all the terrible things I had to tell them.  


"I'm glad you didn't come alone, most of what I need you to know won't be easy to take in," I disclosed to Tony.  


"I imagined when you said it'd be better to continue the talk some other day. However...as hard as it might be, I want you to tell me all you know."  


"I will."  


My recount began with the phone calls that had led me to Tony's mother and all I had gotten from her.  


" _My mother_. She never liked Linda, from the beginning. She kept telling me she was bad news and I guess she was right. But she also despised my baby, never accepted him as her grandson and that's the reason why I distanced myself from her. I couldn't have lived with her saying over and over again that Frank was better dead and I should stop crying over it. I'm not surprised that she gave you all that information, she'd do anything to help get Linda in trouble." He seemed embarrassed and he clearly resented his mother. "And you went to Linda's old house?"  


"Yeah, I did, and talked to some neighbors."

I told him about the first neighbor's fear and how the second one had acceded to talk only because she was going to move soon. With unsure voice and renewed pain I related the episode that had been the cause of Frank's brain damage. Greg anticipated Tony's reaction and gave the man's hands a squeeze over the table, keeping them in his.  


"WHAT? How could she...? But then...when she didn't let me see Frankie for weeks it was because he was hurt and she didn't want me to find out?" he apprehended.  


"From what you've told me...yes," I answered.  


"Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Why didn't I insist? Why did I swallow whatever excuse she told me, uh? I guess...I guess I was usually too high to think straight. DAMN ME! And she...I have no words for her anymore. I can't understand, I just _can't_. If she didn't want the kid why didn't she let the neighbor help, anyway? Why didn't she ask _me_ to do something? Why?"  


"She was permanently drunk or high _too_ , don't forget that," Greg made him see.  


"Maybe she did want the kid back then, and was afraid of him being taken away from her? Or she just didn't want to end up in rehab or a reformatory herself, I'm not sure," I exposed my theories.  


"I can imagine why no one told me about it. In Linda's neighbors' eyes I was just as bad... I guess I was, in a way. But...how come no one denounced her?" Tony went on.  


"For the same reason why no one told you that Frankie was alive later when she said he was dead, which has nothing to do with you being as bad as Linda."  


It was time for Linda's powerful boyfriend to make his appearance in the story. I explained that he was to blame for the neighbor's mutism. Then I filled Anthony in with the part he had missed, what had happened while he was in jail. The complete true version and what pointed me to my next track.  


"So that's where my Frankie was all the time for years? So close to Linda's house, so close to what used to be my house... _and I never knew?_ My poor son was in a nearly illegal shelter while I thought him dead? Oh my God Greg, do you realise everything I could have prevented if I hadn't been so credulous? I hate myself s-so so much..." He cried out of desperation and impotence.  


"That bitch lied too well, Tony. You've never been that shitty, that vile, not even in your lowest moments. I didn't know you back then but you _couldn't_ be. So you'd have never been able to imagine her capable of plotting something like that, it only fits into a sick mind." Greg hissed, trying to comfort his boyfriend.  


"And again, the neighbors had been menaced," I added. "I went to that shelter, too."  


I spoke about that place, how it worked and the good woman I had found there, the one who had helped Frankie. I mentioned what Frank's condition was upon arriving and how he had eventually learned to half-speak thanks to those volunteers' patience. I didn't leave out the maltreatment and over-medication.  


Anthony looked as if the pain was unbearable, as if his heart was about to break in front of me. Not even Greg's caresses and sweet words could calm him. He needed to cry, he needed to grieve for all the time he had lost, for all the things he could have stopped, for everything he had ignored. For all that his innocent, little son had gone through.  


I finally got to Frank's maternal mother's appearance and the salvation that sadly, couldn't be whole.  


"At least Frankie met one relative who cared...if only for some time." Anthony smiled sadly.  


"And he found someone else in that institution." Grace, the famous Grace. I described the importance she'd had to Frank and everything I had learned through my telephone talks with her. I only spared him the part about John, I would tell him in the future. "Grace was the closest to a mother he's had."  


"I'd love to meet that woman and thank her," Anthony said with honesty.  


"Now...here comes the hardest part," I announced. "You know how I told you Linda took Frankie out of that place? Well, for years after Linda's mother died they kept receiving the money to pay for it...so I didn't understand why that had suddenly stopped and why they'd called Linda when they knew she didn't want the boy."  


"Yeah...I was actually wondering the same." Greg scratched his head in confusion. Tony just nodded pensive, Frank's replica again.  


I detached my eyes from him and told them all the information Grace had given to me which included the institution's rules, a manager under pressure, Linda's actress qualities back to action and a judge's number.  


"I hope all this is not about what I'm thinking. Oh please, no," Tony whispered on Greg's neck. I knew he was thinking correctly. "You called that judge? You went that far for my kid?"  


"He's worth it. I had my family and friends against me. They said it was too dangerous, knowing what kind of shit Linda's man was. But I was so angry after getting to know all that about Frankie that I needed to go on."  


"Gerard...you're definitely the best thing that's happened to my son," he said, and that gave me hope. Hope that everything would be alright, that I could be honest with him about everything.  


I went on. Phone calls, a grandma's will and a mysterious black car. A last talk, a procurator, a sad confirmation and a second fake death.  


Silence. Anthony couldn't even cry, he could barely breathe. Forgetting about the almost untouched beer on the table, Greg asked a waitress for a glass of water. 

Tony drank slowly, choking on it. "A-again!? They...they faked the documents but...but the institution confirmed it?"  


"It seems so. We think the director was threatened too."  


"Oh fuck...oh shit, MOTHERFUCKER!" He hit the table and Greg and I jumped to catch the bottles. Then he continued, enraged. "You're t-telling me, as I feared, that Linda -Frank's _mother-_ faked her own son's death _for the second time_ just to steal the money his grandma left him?"  


"I wish I could say you got it wrong but no, that's exactly what happened." I sobbed, feeling again what I had felt the first time I knew it.  


"Oh no, that's ENOUGH. ENOUGH. I'm gonna do something, I _have_ to do something I..."  


"Anthony...listen. Please don't even try, I beg you. That guy knows everything. They knew about my investigation."  


"What do you mean?"  


"The black cars? I wasn't being paranoid. Two guys got me and Frankie one afternoon some weeks ago and took us to an alley. They told me to stop investigating or they'd kill Frankie. Then they shot me in my shoulder..."  


"WHAT THE FUCK? OH MY...how...how are you? Oh shit, why didn't you tell me this before? I...I'm so furious right now. I can't believe all this, can't believe I once loved that woman that is now behind all this!"

I detailed the experience and what followed. What it meant for Frankie and how we were trying to forget though it was hard; very hard. "That's why I told you that we have to take things slowly with Frankie, he hasn't been too well lately. Only now he's surfacing."  


"I...I understand, I swear I'll be patient. As much as I'm dying to meet him I'll do everything you say. We'll follow the doctor's orders, I promise. I would never do anything that could hurt him in any way, never. I only want him to be happy." He cried, his hand on my arm and his eyes on mine. "Gerard...you could have died! My son must be really special for you to care so much for him."  


"You'll see, really special in many ways," I replied. 

Anthony meditated for some seconds. "I'll do something."  


"Babe, no. Didn't you hear Gerard?"  


"Yes I did, Greg. But I can't let them win like that. There's got to be something that I can do. Not right now, because I have other priorities but..."  


"Please _don't_...Frankie needs you, and they could also hurt him," I pleaded.  


"Don't worry, Gerard. Whatever I do, I'll make sure we all get out of this alive and fine."  


I didn't press the subject, and instead we spoke of Frankie. I told them lots of things about him, everything but our relationship. I wasn't ready. I let Tony know that he would be able to see Frankie soon but with some conditions. He agreed, beaming with happiness, and assured me he'd respect all the steps. I thought he'd start jumping around the bar, but he refrained himself and he and Greg only celebrated with a passionate kiss.

I got to know how Anthony had met Greg; he was his cellmate's brother. Said cellmate was a cool guy and had arranged for Greg to always say he was there to visit both of them, so Tony could get out of the cell for a while and have a talk. They had become friends. Greg had told him that he wanted to have a band, Tony had said he played guitar; and that ended up with the drummer telling him to look for him when he got out and he'd give him a hand.

And so did Tony. Greg had helped him through the depression he suffered after the news about his son. He had let him stay in his house and waited patiently until he was better and ready to go on. Then they had maintained a lot of different jobs to share the rent, spending the nights playing and writing songs. They had gradually became more than friends and thought neither of them had been with a man before, they didn't try to deny what was happening. They had never hidden it. Tony and Greg were proud of their love.  


They had assembled and disassembled several bands until four years ago, when they finally felt that they were among friends. When they knew that they all wanted the same: music and some adventure. It had taken them a couple more years to have things ready, to make sure they'd all have an extra money ingress. Only then they had turned into a traveling band.  


I liked these guys, I really did.

I finished my beer -which I had accepted because I feared having to explain why if I didn't- and then excused myself, sincerely saying that I didn't trust my friend Bob and Frankie alone for too long. I told Anthony to call me next time he was free and not far from there.

******  


There was a familiar, not really unpleasant smell in the house when I entered it. I closed my eyes trying to remember what was it, but my brain was shut down. When I took a look around, the smell became an insignificant detail. The couches were out of place, pushed against the walls same as the TV. This left a wide, clear space in the middle of the living room, in which center stood the coffee table sprinkled with a brownish powder and some shiny particles. The cushions were all over the place and a new blue autograph graced one of the walls, a little red heart instead of the dot over the 'i'. 

There was music and giggles coming from the end of the corridor. "Bee Gees?" I frowned.  


Uncertain of the further chaos that could lay ahead, I walked slowly. Something of a bright purple color on the floor flied away as I passed it by, so I chased it. "A feather? What the fuck?" I stared at the ethereal thing.  


"N-no no wait, not y-yet!" Frankie's voice was heard louder. I looked up and saw Puppy excitedly running towards me. His short legs were entangled in a glittering, red shirt that was too big for the poor dog.  


"What's all this about, Puppy?"

The music's volume increased and the bedroom's door opened with a chirp. Walking/dancing barefoot along the corridor came Frankie. He was wearing the only pair of jeans that still fit him, though tightly and marking every curve of his body. They were covered by what seemed to be glitter and a pink belt surrounded his waist. When I scanned him up -finally detaching my eyes from his ass- I had to chuckle. He had a sparkly, silver and black tank top on. The garment only reached above his navel, so his belly protruded in between it and the restraining pants. Over his shoulders was a purple boa, revealing where the feather had come from.  


"Am...am I p-pretty?" Frank asked giggling. 

I took his hand and made him spin, finally examining the rest of him. Make-up, that was the smell. I thin layer of foundation -slightly darker than his skin tone- and a touch of blush on his cheeks. Under his glasses, his eyes were neatly framed with thick, black eyeliner. I didn't think he could have done it himself. The pale green eyeshadow, instead, was messily distributed; same as the dark pink lipstick. I concluded that Bob must have been afraid of Frankie stabbing his own eyes with the eyeliner and did it for him. But...how come Bob _knew_ how to apply eyeliner?  


Frank's long hair was well brushed, puffy and also full of sparkles. From under his locks and across his forehead, a spangled, multicolored headband completed the outfit.

He stepped on the table and looked radiant, posing like a diva and extending the boa over his head. I didn't know what to ask first. About the mess? Why he was dressed like a very cute drag queen? Why Bob had woman clothes and make-up in his possession?  


Frankie knocked on my head. "G-gee! Y-you didn't answer! I...I d-don't look p-pretty?"   


"Oh yes, _very_ pretty!" I smirked, poking his stomach. "But...all this was inside of Bob's bag?"  


"Y-yep! S-super Bob is super c-cool, isn't he?"  


"Oh my God...he better help me clean this mess. After explaining himself, that is, because I'm _dying_ to know." I laughed and called him, "BOB!"  


"N-no, wait! N-not like th-that!" Frank stopped me.  


"Uh?"  


"L-like _this_." He neared a closed hand to his mouth mimicking a microphone and screamed. "L-LADIES AND GEN...G-GENTLEMEN...SUPER BOB!"  


"What the...?" I wondered.  


"B-BOB! C-COME OUT N-NOW!" Frank demanded.  


Did I want to see that?


	51. Chapter 51

_Close your eyes, have no fear.  
The monster's gone,  
he's on the run and your daddy's here.  
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,  
beautiful boy._

Bob made his triumphal appearance in the living room in a fruitless attempt to impersonate a model. I was thankful that he was also barefoot. To see my friend trying to walk in high heels would have been far too disturbing; not that it wasn't enough with what I was beholding. His legs were covered with holey, skin colored pantyhose, hairs peeping through them. His attire consisted of a mom-style, fitted blue dress. It was knee-length with short sleeves and a square collar; white fake pearls around his neck.

He stopped prancing around when he noticed my astonished face, probably unable to decipher if it meant that I was angry, surprised, or just deeply traumatized.  


"Hi?" he essayed a high-pitched voice and blew me a kiss with his hand. Frankie rolled on the floor laughing.  


I hadn't dared look Bob in the face until that moment. His lips were saturated with red, even his lipring tinted. He hadn't applied as much eyeliner on himself as he did on Frank, but his eyelids were shadowed in _shocking pink_. The cherry to the cake was a red haired wig, with long curls falling on his shoulders that he accommodated back with a graceful flick of his hand. All the questions that had gathered in my mind escaped me upon that view. 

Frankie was still crying with laughter and I was standing in front of Bob with my jaw frozen open. "What the fuck, Bob?" was all I could express. I thought it resumed my thoughts perfectly. 

He sat on the table and closed his legs self consciously. "You're mad," he affirmed rather than questioned.  


"Uh...I don't think I'm mad. But still -and I'll say the same again 'cause I can't find better words: what the fuck, Bob?"  


"About what, exactly?" he mumbled. 

Frank emerged from the floor and laid his elbows on the couch's armrest, his embellished eyes watching the spectacle. I couldn't deny that the eyeliner looked great on him. Maybe not so much the rest of the stuff -at least not in that color- but the black outline made his hazels stand out.  


"How about...everything?" I made a gesture which included him, Frankie and the disarrayed house.  


"You're mad."  


"N-no he's not m-mad, right G-gee?" Frankie asked dubious. "Are y-you? W-we were just p-playing..."  


"I already said I'm not mad, babe. I want Bob to answer me because...never in my life I'd have imagined that he had all this in that bag! How...why?"  


"H-he's so c-cool, isn't h-he?"  


"Yeah, he sure is..." I trailed off, still scrutinizing Bob.  


"Ok. You know when you called me? Well, I was at my mom's and she and my sister had been cleaning their wardrobes. They had a huge pile of clothes there that was due to be donated."  


"And how did some of that end in your bag, then?"  


"Don't know why, but when you asked me to come stay with Frankie I looked at the clothes and had this crazy idea. Thought it'd be fun, dunno." Bob shrugged. "I told them I'd keep some of the clothes to give them away myself."  


"It...it w-was lots of f-fun!" Frankie hugged him. I chuckled thinking that my boyfriend actually made a pretty girl, though I couldn't say the same about Bob.  


"What about the make-up and other accessories?" I asked.  


"Both women have lots of make-up they don't even use, so I stole some things. The wig...uhm..."  


"What?" I raised my eyebrows.  


"It's mine," he said, whispering the following in my ear. "Drunken party. It was being passed around and I kept it."  


"Oh, that's interesting. Now I have something to bribe you with if necessary!"  


"Oh but I'd have something to counteract!" he smirked.  


"You have _a lot_ , but I guess you wouldn't go that low with a friend, would you Bob?"  


"No, I'd just tell everybody that you own a Bee Gees deluxe compilation," he pointed towards the bedroom where the CD was still playing. Hadn't _he_ brought that?  


"That's not mine!"  


"Y-yes it is, G-gee! Wh-why you never sh-showed me it? F-funny music!"  


"But it's not..."  


"Gerard, stop denying it. I searched through your CDs and found that one at the back," Bob commented. Thinking about it better, I did remember listening to it at my mother's house once. Since I'd had to leave in a rush I took it with me to listen to the whole thing later, but had obviously never given it back.  


"It's my mom's," I used in my defense.  


"And the wig's my friend's. So? Relax, bro, you're gay anyway so what's the big problem?"  


"You're not." I laughed.  


"I could give it a try." He jumped on me with a pouty mouth, seeking to kiss me.  


"Back off! Back off I tell you!" I protested and pushed him away, but not before he planted a kiss on my cheek. "Ewwww!"  


"H-he left the m-mark! He l-left a mark!" Frank sang. He hung his arms on my neck and bussed my other cheek. "N-now you have t-two!"  


"This deserves a picture," Bob spoke with British accent, holding an unlighted cigarette in a sophisticated manner. He stuck his cheek to mine and aimed the camera. "Get your face close to Gerard's, Frankie. Ready...say cheese!"  


"Ch-cheese!" Frank screamed and we were blinded by the flash. 

Many more photos came after that one. When done, Bob ran out to get rid of the woman clothes and make-up. Frankie, instead, kept everything on; his own pants being the only item incommoding him. He unmade the top button and sat by me with a relieved sigh.  


"More comfy now?" I simpered, welcoming him in my arms.  


"Y-yep, had to l-let it f-free. It...it as-asked for help, h-heard it!"  


"Who?"  


"M-my belly. R-really!" he nodded gravely. "G-gee...I th-think I can't w-wear these pants an-anymore either."  


"We'll buy new ones as I promised and your belly will have to shut up," I told him. I'd been waiting to get my paycheck which I now had.  


"It's because of the meds, isn't it?" Bob inquired. I understood that he was talking about Frank's weight.  


"Yeah, I guess. He's like _always_ hungry. But I don't wanna try a different medication, he's only now getting used to the new dose. Besides, the other stuff that according to Grace also worked fine is more expensive. No way I can afford it. The doctor said he's okay anyway, so I'm just trying to watch what he eats a little more."  


"H-he doesn't make e-enough fries. Th-that's evil!" Frankie pouted.  


"I agree, Gerard. That's evil! Fries are sacred!" Bob opined, but he stopped laughing when he detected my seriousness. "Uh, and how did the blood test go? Got the results?"  


"Yep, a few days ago. Thankfully it didn't show anything bad. Some values are a bit altered, but my mom was told it's all within the expected. So it's just the anemia, and we're already taking care of that. Oh, and next week he must have his heart checked again."  


"Is there something wrong with it?" Bob appeared worried.  


"N-no nothing! M-my heart's fine. 'C-cause it's in l-looove." Frankie kissed me unawares.  


"Awww, why are you so damn adorable?" I kissed back and then brought my attention to Bob, who was smiling at us. "Not sure, it was a little accelerated when we went for the general check up, but it could have been a thing of the moment. The doc wanted to see him again, maybe do some more tests, I don't know. He's a pediatrician but also a cardiologist, so fortunately he can do everything himself."  


Bob patted my arm, noticing my concern. "It'll be ok, I'm sure."   


"Y-yeah it'll be 'c-cause I'm fine, t-told you."  


"I know," I said, feeling Frank's rushed heartbeat next to my own chest.  


******  


Frankie wasn't scared or nervous at all that day. He knew what the doctor would do and even found it interesting, asking for the stethoscope to hear his own heart and then listening to ours. All the same, his was beating as fast as the previous time we had been there.  


He wasn't hyper, but rather slow and quiet. We had stayed up more than we should watching TV the night before, and Frank was almost falling asleep while the doctor attached the electrodes to do the electrocardiogram. He didn't move, whine or even talk save when he was asked to. Yet, the doctor's face told me the results weren't that normal. It could also be just my usual paranoia, of course; it seemed to me that doctors _always_ had the same bad-news face.  


I assisted Frankie in putting his shirt and hoodie back on with a painted smile to hide my worries.  


"There _is_ something, right?" I fearfully glanced at the doctor.  


"Nothing too serious, relax. The tachycardia is still present, but it's not the most dangerous type and Frankie hasn't showed any more symptoms so far. This is usually fixed by getting to the origin of the problem and suppressing it," William explicated. "In this case, we already know what it is. However, I understand that there's no possibility of changing the antipsychotics Frankie's taking or having the dose reduced at the moment..."  


"Definitely not, he's doing okay now and a new change would mean starting all over again. What can we do then? Heart pills?"  


"It could be..." he meditated. More medication...  


"I...I d-don't want more p-pills!" Frankie justly complained.  


"You'll have to, if necessary. It'd probably be not more than one little pill per day," I threw just to make him feel better, even if I had no idea about the subject.  


"S-same! N-not fair!"  


"Damn...that would mean more spendings..." I thought aloud, watching William read over some papers. "I might not be able to buy you new jeans, Frankie."  


"I c-can wear y-yours. Th-they fit me. Y-yes," he bestowed me a drowsy smile. Frank could be really understanding, remarkably less stubborn than he used to be.

"You know? I think you should buy him the pants," the doctor said kindly. "I thought better about it, and medication is not strictly necessary for this kind of tachycardia. I'd have to research further for something that could be safely taken together with antipsychotics, but I don't think it's worth the risk at the moment. I'd better keep Frankie regularly controlled."  


"Are you sure he'll be fine?" I questioned.  


"Yes, don't worry. I'll see him again in two weeks and we'll be open-eyed for any change."  


"Oh...ok, thanks. Is there anything I should have in mind like...keeping him quiet?"  


"No, from what you and your mother told me about Frankie, I think he can go on with his normal life. He doesn't do any activity that's too physically demanding."  


"I c-can run?"  


"He asks that as if he was a marathoner or something." I laughed. "He only runs around the house with his dog sometimes."  


"Yes you can, just not for _too_ long. And if you get too agitated or tired you stop, ok?" William responded.  


"K-kay, I'll t-tell Puppy. Th-then we'll play s-something with no r-running."  


"That's a good idea."  


Frankie remained reserved as we left the clinic and got into the car. I tried to come up with some random topics but he ignored me. Then I realised that he was whispering, now and then shaking his head and saying 'no' louder. Was he hearing that voice again?  


"Frankie? Is 'he' in your head?"  


"Uh?"  


"Are you hearing someone talking inside your head?"  


"Y-yes...no. N-no I'm not!" he blurted out.  


"You can tell me the truth, don't be ashamed," I encouraged him. 

Frank mulled about it a little longer, hit his head against the backrest and groaned. "Y-yes," he whispered. "H-he was telling me s-something mean and b-bad. T-told him to sh-shut up and he d-did. H-he did, really! N-no not here n-now I...d-don't know. M-maybe it's t-true but no, he's al-always mean. Y-yes...no," he began to ramble.  


"What did he say to you?" I asked. He didn't answer, just carried on talking to himself.  


It was hard to hide my disquietude every time any symptom of his illness reappeared. It was normal, but it alarmed me. Knowing that it could always get worse, that the possibility was there, was torture to me.  


"G-gee, I'm g-gonna die?" he voiced sniffing.  


"What? Why are you saying that, baby?"  


"'C-cause I saw on...on TV th-that people d-die when their h-heart doesn't work o-okay."  


"You're not gonna die, Frankie. The problem with your heart is not serious, you just have to keep visiting the doc occasionally so he can check on you. It'll be alright." I placed one hand on his knee to calm him. 

He sobbed instead. "T-tell him to g-give me pills? P-please? I...I'll t-take them, p-promise. D-don't want an-another illness."  


"You don't need to take more pills, love. Didn't you hear William?"

"Yes b-but I...I d-don't wanna d-die. T-too young, d-don't want to." He cried even more and sounded awfully scared.  


"Oh, sweety. Wait a second, gonna stop the car." I pulled over and turned to Frankie, capturing him in my arms. "You're _not_ going to die. You're fine and healthy and I'll always take care that you stay this way."  


"S-sure?"  


"Sure. He told you those scary things?" I pointed to his head.  


"Y-yes, said I w-was gonna d-die. M-maybe. And...and I s-saw on TV," Frank admitted. It was sad how TV was the closest thing to reality for people who, like him, had been locked away from real life for years.  


"You know you shouldn't listen to him. He's _not_ real. Ignore him and he'll go away."

"K-kay. I'm n-not gonna d-die?" he queried.  


"No you won't, Frankie. You're gonna be fine." I kissed his tears and he suspired, taking my face in between his shaking hands and reaching up for my lips. Sweet and salty. Sad and hopeful.  


"Wanna shop for new jeans now?" I proffered.  


"Y-yes, need b-bigger ones!"

******  


"H-hi! N-need new jeans 'c-cause I'm fat and m-mine doesn't f-fit anymore," Frankie announced giggling when we entered a shop. 

As expected, the female employees immediately melted with his cuteness. They surrounded him and told him that he wasn't fat at all and they would help him find something cool enough for him.  


Even for us -'family' and friends- who knew Frankie and all his facets well, it was sometimes hard to not see him as a kid. So it was rather unavoidable for people who met him for the first time. It was no surprise when the girls from that clothing store treated him that way as soon as they saw him and heard him speak. Frankie didn't mind, though. What's more, he _liked_ it. He only hated to be labeled as 'retarded' or 'crazy', but it made him extremely happy to have people being nice to him, even if in a childish way. Maybe he just loved the attention and to feel accepted, or maybe it reminded him of Grace.

He smiled at the girls all the time, chatted about lots of different things in a few minutes and never tried to hide his eyes like he used to do. I sat and watched it all, laughing and enjoying his cheerfulness while being under the spotlight.

While Frank was in the changing room, the youngest girl courteously asked me what it was that he had. I perceived her preoccupation, how she chose her words -presumably afraid to say something that might sound derogatory. She complemented Frank, saying how sweet and polite he was; and I had to return the compliment. I told her that I wished there were more well-meaning people like her. It wasn't that hard after all.

I'd warned Frankie that I could only afford two pants; so after a long deliberation, moseying the shop in boxers 'not to waste time' and trying each jean repeatedly, he finally made his choice: a pair of loose, dark blue jeans -which he had to fold the legs of since they were too long for him- and other ones that were more close-fitting, of a washed-out, lighter blue. He looked very good in both and he was conscious of it, contemplating himself in the mirror from every angle and grinning. I didn't regret a single cent spent.  


******  


That week I reported my induced conversation with Frankie to Goldberg. I was pleasantly surprised when he congratulated me for how I'd managed it and what I had obtained. He said that he would try to bring Frank back to the absent parents subject during that session and the following ones. He wanted to work deeper on it to prepare him. I had no idea how he was going to do that without making Frankie suspicious, but I trusted him.

In the meantime, he thought it would be good for the boy to get to know his father in the way we had previously accorded. If Frankie liked him and they got along, then things would be easier when having to tell him the truth. Based on my description of Anthony and what Frank thought a father should be like, Goldberg was feeling optimistic about it .  


Anthony called me on Friday and said he'd be able to make it to town the following day. After agreeing to meet at the mall, we went over everything that he could and could not do, for he didn't want to screw up. Basically, we couldn't tell Frankie that he was his father; this was just about them getting to know each other first. The man sounded really nervous and his voice faltered every time he named Frankie. He asked if it'd be okay to go with Greg and I thought it was a good idea. He was Tony's partner, his other beloved person, so his son should meet him too.

******  


"Frankie, would you like to go out this afternoon?" I proposed while he ate his breakfast, sniffing in between each cereal spoon. I knew that I should have asked him before arranging things with Anthony. It was freezing outside, Frank had a cold and he hadn't been in the best of moods. Anyway, I could always call Tony to cancel if needed, he would understand. I wouldn't make Frankie go against his will.  


"Y-yes I want t-to!" he responded against all odds, his voice sounding funny. "Wh-where we going?"  


"Well, an old friend of mine is in town, I saw him last week when I was coming home from work. We talked for a while and he said we should see each other again with more time, so we'll meet at the mall," I recited what I had made up earlier.  


"Y-yay, the m-mall! I w-wanna go! Y-you told your f-friend..." he interrupted the sentence to sneeze, and I handed him a tissue. "...'bout m-me?"  


"Of course! And you know what? I think the main reason why he wants to see me again is to meet you, he specially asked me to bring you along. He doesn't know you're my boyfriend, though, so don't tell him yet. But he already thinks you're awesome."  


"I...I t-tell him we're b-brothers, then?" he remembered our classic lie.  


"No, it's not necessary. He knows part of the truth, that I found you and took you to live with me."  


"Ahhh, k-kay." he spoke with a full mouth. "H-he's nice?"  


"Yes, he's very nice. He's a little older than me, and plays guitar in a band." I preferred to not give him much information, so Tony could do it himself.  


"C-cool! Oh, you d-didn't tell me his n-name. N-nope."  


"Anthony," I said, praying that he'd stop asking.  


"L-like my m-middle name!"  


"Yes, exactly. Now finish that, you'll be able to ask Anthony all you want later, ok?"  


"K-kay!" he rubbed his reddened nose and smiled, excited that he was about to meet someone new. I wondered what he'd think if he knew how important this person was.

******  


My boyfriend had insisted on walking, too worked up to think of his fears -which was a good thing. Before leaving, I made sure to wrap him up enough to face the weather; imagining how my mom would laugh at me if she saw me. She would say that now I knew what it felt like to worry the way mothers do about those things. Frank didn't have a jacket of his own, so I gave him one of mine, black and fluffy. He commented that he felt like a dark snowman. I also lent him a purple scarf and he added some fingerless skeleton gloves I didn't even know he owned.  


"W-were from a kid that l-left and forgot th-them, G-Grace gave them to m-me. H-had them in my b-bag's pocket," he explained.  


"I like them, really kick-ass."  


"Oh, l-look, it's f-furry!" he put the jacket's hood over his head and stood in front of the mirror.  


"You look like a little Eskimo, pretty!" I slid my arms around him, staring at his reflexion, then turned him around to kiss him. I knew it was a matter of days until I got his cold, but it's not like I was going to avoid him because of that. "Ready? Got tissues?"  


"Y-yes and yes." He nodded.  


"Then let's go."  


At the mall, we occupied one of the small tables of the dining area. Frankie fumbled with the scarf annoyed and threw it at me once he got rid of it. 

"F-fuck, fucker!" he bitched at the jacket's zipper afterwards.  


"Let me help you." I put it down. "Wanna take it off?"  


"N-no, it's w-warm." He laid his head on my shoulder, contemplating everything in silence. I could hear him breathe through his mouth and whimper slightly because he hated having a stuffed nose.  


"We can go home if you feel too crappy, I won't get angry and neither will my friend..."  


"N-no, I wanna m-meet him. C-can I have hot ch-chocolate?" he spoke against my neck, giving me a tickling feeling.  


"Of course, it's a good idea! Let's go over there to buy them." I pointed at one of the places.  


"N-no I stay, I w-wait here."  


"Frankie..."  


"P-please, I w-won't move," he promised.  


"Ok, I'll trust you."

I kept an eye on him as I waited for our chocolates; but he stayed still, sprawled on the chair and staring at the ceiling. Just when an employee was coming to me with the steaming plastic glasses, I saw Anthony and Greg enter the area and scout the tables. The mall was crowded and I didn't want to drop the hot drinks by running to get there faster.  


Slowly making my way, I witnessed the change on Tony's face when he suddenly spotted Frankie, recognizing him from the picture. His knees buckled and he gripped Greg's shoulders. The drummer embraced him and went for a kiss, his hand reaching up for Anthony's face who was crying. He needed to stay calm, he couldn't let Frank know.  


While I walked the last stretch, Greg was guiding Tony -who had composed himself- to our table with a hand on his back. They made it there first for a fraction of a second. Frankie saw them, and I stopped. "Y-you're Anthony? Or...or you?" he asked them smiling.  


"I...am," the mentioned one answered, pale, his eyes shiny. 

I could not breathe, nor move. It had to be incredibly painful for Tony to have his son in front of him after 16 years and not be able to catch him in his arms and scream it to the world.  


"H-hi! I'm F-frankie and Gerard's b-buying choco-late. I d-didn't want to g-go but stayed right h-here, didn't m-move! Wh-who's him?" Frank talked to them confidently, even if they hadn't even taken seat. 

Anthony took a deep breath. Greg whispered something in his ear and he nodded. "I'm fine," I was sure he said before turning to Frankie. "He's Greg, my...a very good friend."  


I obliged myself to move, the poor guy needed assistance. "Anthony, Greg! I see you already met Frankie. He's a little sick and that makes him grumpy, so I went for chocolate as he wanted," I greeted the two men and handed Frank his glass. "Sit down, please."  


"Hot chocolate's always good, it not only warms you but also cheers you up. A drink for the body and the soul." With a smile, Tony landed an insecure hand on Frank's cheek. The boy shuddered and looked up, his eyes meeting his father's. 

I stared at both simultaneously and found them so alike that for the first time, I feared that Frankie would _instantly know_ who that man was.  


Frank got closer, elbows on the table. He inclined his head and appeared to be studying Tony, trying to see beyond; maybe understand the strange vibe this man gave him. Anthony's hand hadn't left its place. I noticed that Greg was also paralyzed, waiting like I was. Could Frankie see himself in Tony? Was it possible for him to _remember_ his father?  


The odd, almost magical moment ended when Frankie just giggled and sipped at his chocolate. Only then Tony retreated his hand.  


"Y-you know? M-my middle name's An-anthony," Frank mentioned nonchalantly, stirring the milk with the spoon.  


"Really?"  


"Yes," I answered for him. "You share a name and the love for chocolate, it seems."  


"Talking about chocolate...would you go and get one for me, please?" the oldest Iero asked Greg, coming up with something to hide his nerves and the anxiety building up at the back of his throat. 

I felt bad for him. I wished it was easier, wished we could just tell Frankie. But what if we did and it went wrong? How would we forgive ourselves? How would we mend our mistake?  


"I'll get one for me too, be right back." Greg patted his boyfriend's arm and got up. 

Once the three of us were left alone, Frankie's attention was back on Tony. He seemed amused by something.  


"What are you laughing at? Naughty thoughts?" Anthony playfully interrogated him, making him giggle again. Even without knowing his true identity, his father's presence had lightened Frank's mood. It was a peculiar encounter filled with silences, contained urges and alien sensations; but a positive one nevertheless. There was an invisible connection, a never broken bond.  


"Uhm...it's...it's w-weird that you're G-gee's friend."  


"Why?"  


"'C-cause you're k-kinda old." Frankie chuckled.  


"Excuse him, he tends to let out whatever comes to his mind," I apologized though, of course, Tony wasn't offended at all.  


"Oh no, it's fine, the kid's right. I _am_ old compared to you two!" he laughed.  


"H-how old?"  


"36."  


"Oh, w-wow! Th-that's uh..." Frankie counted with his fingers, whispering for a long time and frowning. "G-gee...I t-tried, but can't. H-how older th-than me and you is th-that?"  


"18 years older than you and 13 than me," I quickly replied.  


"Th-that's a lot. Y-you have k-kids, Anthony?" Frank's next question scared us both.  


"Yes, one." Anthony gave me an apologetic look, telling without words that he couldn't lie to his son's face like that, it hurt him. "His name is Frank."  


"Wh-what?" the namesake gasped, almost spitting out his cocoa. "L-like me? W-well, I don't l-like 'Frank' and ev-everybody calls me 'F-frankie' but it's r-really 'Frank', yeah."  


"Yes, he's called like you. But you're right, Frankie's better and cuter."  


Frank grinned. "H-how old is y-your Frankie?" 

Tony eyed me helpless, again not wanting to lie but knowing that answering with the truth would be far too confusing for the boy. I rubbed my neck, as lost as he was. Why was Greg taking so long? Why hadn't he returned to save the moment?  


"He's 2, just a baby," Iero responded, unable to stop the tears. I knew why he had chosen that number, the meaning behind it. He hadn't told the truth, but hadn't lied either. Frankie was 2 years old the last time Anthony had seen him. "Sorry, I love him very much and...miss him right now."  


"Wh-why? Wh-where's he?" Frank mirrored his sadness.  


"He..." And it was too much for Anthony. He got up and turned his back on us, struggling to stop crying. I was happy to see Greg come back.  


"Tony, are you ok?" He abandoned the cups on the table and hurried to his boyfriend.  


"Greg! Yes...what took you so long?" Tony wiped his eyes.  


"Long line...." he stopped, looked at the shaken man and caressed his hair lovingly.  


I didn't know whether they had accorded to hide their relationship from Frankie for the time being. We hadn't talked about it, but whatever they had previously decided, in that instant Greg only took Tony's needs into consideration. He pecked at his lips and grabbed his hand to walk him back to his seat.  


"Awwww!" Frank beamed. "G-greg's not your f-friend! He...he's your b-boyfriend!"  


"Yes...I am! That was too obvious, wasn't it?" Greg laughed.  


"Y-yes!"  


" _You_ were too obvious," Iero scoffed. "But I needed that, so I forgive you."  


"I...I l-like boys t-too! W-we're all gay!" Frankie nearly screamed. He rarely used that term.  


I tried to read Anthony's blank face and panicked. What if he put two and two together?


	52. Chapter 52

_I'd live and I'd die for you,_   
_steal the sun from the sky for you,_   
_words can't say what a love can do,_   
_I'll be there for you._

Anthony's illegible countenance mutated; but I saw no deception, concern or suspicion. He drank from his glass and looked engrossed in his own thoughts, melancholic, dispirited. Then, though his gaze was still somewhere else, he smiled faintly.  


Greg, on the other hand, peered at me like seeking corroboration. The idea forming in his mind could be presumed through his stabbing green eyes, waiting for me to fully watch back as his hand messed with his nearly shaved, light hair. 

Although I felt tempted to lower my face even more, intimidated, I finally decided to comply. I endured his stare showing no fear, shame or regret. I smiled confidently, yet not cheekily, and I got a similar accepting smile in return. I wasn't certain of what had exactly happened, only that I'd somewhat defeated his mistrust once again.  


None of us were speaking and some laughs could be heard around. Frankie was getting nervous, ignoring what his happy words had caused. Tony noticed this and took the boy's hand, and the way they both shivered at the same time was unreal.  


"Honestly...I think it's better that you like boys, Frankie. Women bring trouble and are a big mystery. They're too good at hiding things and lying, so it's hard to know what they truly feel. I'm only talking about women as girlfriends and I don't mean that _all of them_ are like that, of course. But, I believe gay men have an advantage. If you find a man who's brave enough to admit that he likes you and is not ashamed of what he feels for you, then you know he's true. That his feelings are genuine," he said to him, pouring out the internal hurt caused by betrayal but also the impact of that different, honest love he'd found later.  


"B-boys can l-lie, too," Frankie noted, then shook his head and added something to himself. "N-no he d-doesn't, no n-no."

Tony eyed him worried, but hid it when his son looked back at him waiting for an answer. "I wasn't very clear, sorry. Yes, of course boys can lie too. But...I guess you know that many people don't like seeing two boys together, and they sometimes say nasty things to them..."  


"Y-yes, assholes. I..."  


"I'll never understand why they mind, what do they care who other people fall in love with?" I threw in to stop Frankie from saying too much. I didn't want Tony to find out by accident, that wasn't the way.  


"Exactly! But Frankie...if, in spite of all those assholes, a boy you like dares to take your hand while you're in the street or he kisses you in front of strangers, you can be sure that he _really_ cares about you. He most probably loves you. It'd be unlikely for any boy to go through that otherwise. Sure, some might not dare just because they're shy, but if they do then there's no doubt." He spoke to Frankie from the heart, like any father would speak to his son. I was pleased to hear that he evidently thought him capable of loving and being loved. Tony knew that deep inside the boy in front of him wasn't a little kid; he saw the teenager hidden behind the childish behavior. Frankie enjoyed that just as much as being spoiled like a child, and his huge grin proved it.  


I had drifted away with Anthony's words. Even if his opinions were maybe extremist due to his bad personal experience, those words had let me wondering. Had Gabriel ever really loved me as he'd say?  


It wasn't the time to ponder about that, though, it didn't matter anymore. What _did_ matter was what could fall from Frank's mouth at any moment if we didn't change the subject. "Oh Anthony, Frankie loves music so he wanted to know about your band. They had a music teacher where he lived before, and he was very interested in learning to play instruments," I conveniently commented.  


"Y-yes, the t-teacher let me p-play with them but...b-but the other k-kids said I was b-bad."

"I'm sure you weren't that bad, kids just like to be mean sometimes," Iero cheered him up.  


"Y-yes I _was_ b-bad, 'c-couldn't do what the t-teacher told me. T-tried and didn't w-work, but he never g-got angry and...and I l-liked to play the in-instruments anyway. I l-like drums a l-lot 'cause I c-can hit them the s-same when my h-hands are shaking. M-my hands are c-crappy and shake a l-lot, 'cause of the m-meds. Y-yeah. G-gee told you that I'm s-special 'cause my h-head's ill and b-broken and I need p-pills? P-pills make the ill-ness a little b-better but...b-but can't fix the b-broken-ess," Frank said messily. Anthony listened to him patiently and interested.

Some people got visibly uncomfortable with the time Frankie took to speak. He didn't seem to notice; he loved talking and had learned to not rush because that only made it worse. I _did_ detect the impatience in his listeners. It happened to Mikey sometimes, but not to Tony and Greg so far.

"Yes, Gerard told me that. He also told me that you're an awesome boy, and I agree." Tony ruffled Frankie's hair. His arms were aching to hug. His eyes were menacing to spill tears and that feeling of guilt was back to blear them.  


"Guess what? I'm a drummer!" Greg remarked to light the mood. "One of these days I can let you play or even teach you if you want."  


"Y-yes that w-would be so c-cool!" Frank applauded. I ignored the snickers coming from another table. "D-dunno if I c-can learn. I'm s-slow to learn things but w-wanna play."  


"Don't worry about that, I have patience."  


"You could also come hear our band -The Homeless Souls- play," the guitarist suggested.  


"N-NO! N-no don't w-want to," Frankie exclaimed, making Anthony and Greg look at me confused. "Wh-when bands p-play there's much n-noise, I kn-know that. K-kids told me. D-don't like loud n-noises, n-no. P-please don't m-make me go!"  


"It's ok, Frankie, we won't oblige you! But...you said you like drums and drums make a lot of noise," Tony questioned.  


"I...d-dunno." Frank shrugged. "D-don't wanna g-go."  


"It's fine when he's the one making the noise," I explained. "Otherwise he gets pretty scared. Same if he's in a place with many people close to each other or speaking at the same time. So yeah, I don't think that would be a good idea, sadly."  


"L-low music and f-few people is o-okay," Frankie murmured, biting the spoon.  


"Then I'll play guitar for you, it won't be loud I promise. And we could sing something. I'm not that good at it, but we could ask Jake for help."  


"Wh-who's Jake?"  


"He's the singer of the band. Do you like to sing?" Iero asked his son.  


"Y-yes I l-love it. G-gee says I do it w-well, but the k-kids said I s-sucked. I d-didn't care 'cause...'cause it's f-fun and when I kn-know the songs I d-don't get stuck with w-words!"  


"Then we'll do that, you can sing or play drums."  


"An-and what will y-your boyfriend do?"  


"Play the tambourine?" Greg pretended to be playing one and the two Ieros laughed. Even their laughs were similar.  


"Y-yes, you do th-that."  


We continued to discuss the band, the shows, and all the cities they had visited. Frankie didn't stop asking questions; wanting to know everybody's names, the description of the places they had played at, if people had liked the band and what their songs were about. Once in a while I'd catch him studying Anthony's face like he had the first moment he saw him. Tony's eyes shined every time it happened, and I could almost envision the words wanting to escape his lips. Then Greg would kiss him, or whisper in his ear to get him out of the trance while I tried to distract Frank so he'd quit the staring.

Half through the meeting, the poor boy's cold seemed to attack back. He began to sniff, sneeze and cough more often and he looked flushed; but his curiosity was stronger and he went on with the conversation. I had my heart in my mouth permanently, it could be a matter of seconds until Frankie mentioned that we were boyfriends. He told the two men about Puppy, Ray, my mother, Mikey, Bob, our garden and even the Martian plant and his other imaginary friends. He said that even though he knew the latest weren't real, he missed them the same when he didn't see them. He confessed that he had spotted the gnomes a few times during that week, which he hadn't told me. It worried me, since he had been also hearing that voice in his head again. Tony let me know that he shared my concern.

 Next, Frank decided to relate what had happened the last time Bob stayed with him while I went out. He looked tired and sounded even worse, but still put enthusiasm in what he said and emphasized it with his hands. "And...and th-then Bob op-opened the bag and...and h-had funny clothes in-inside."  


"What kind of funny clothes?" Tony asked laughing.  


"O-other things, too.Y-yeah. And the c-clothes were..." he suddenly stopped, watching something across from him. His bottom lip trembled like he was going to cry. 

The annoying laughter that we had heard all the time got louder; and when we followed Frank's gaze we discovered the source. Three kids from a near table were standing now behind Tony and Greg, which left them in front of Frankie. They were making faces at him, crossing their eyes and snickering.  


"L-look! The g-gay retard's g-gonna cry!" the tallest mocked. Just then one of his friends saw us and prodded him.

"T-tell them to s-stop?" Frankie whispered.  


"Fucking spoiled brats..." Anthony got up fuming and kicked his chair, stomping in the boys' direction.  


"Tony...!" Greg ran after him, but he'd already grabbed one of the jokers by the collar of his t-shirt.  


"Why the fuck did you have to do that?" Anthony screamed in the kid's face, spitting the words with a rage I would have never thought he could display.  


"Hey dude, cool down! We were just...having fun," the scared boy said while his friends tried to get him free.  


"Tony please, let him go. They're just kids, you know how they can be," Greg pleaded, tugging at his arm. The other didn't seem to see or hear him.  


"So you have fun at other people's expense, laughing at them. IS THAT YOUR DAMN IDEA OF FUN?" he hit back.  


"TONY! Do you wanna get into trouble right now? STOP!" his partner tried again. T

his time Anthony froze, his eyes shifted from him to Frankie -who was crying in my arms- and he released the boy. While Greg dragged him away, he turned to the three friends for a last warning. "Better get out of my sight! I won't let _anyone_ hurt my....friend."  


Kneeling in front of his son, he brushed the hair out of his face. "They won't bother you again, are you ok?" 

Frankie gasped and nodded. "K-kids always l-laugh at me. Al-always, 'bout ev-everything. Th-they say I'm r-retarded and I'm n-not. Th-they don't s-see I'm...I'm just s-special, uh?" he spoke huskily. His cheeks were red and when he tucked his face under my chin I sensed that he was warm.  


"They don't know you, that's why they say those kind of things. They're ignorant people who laugh at anyone who's different from them, they think they're better because they're the 'normal ones'. But what if _you_ are the normal one?" Anthony suggested.  


"I...I'm n-not normal, I kn-know that."  


"Who says you're not? Think about this: is making fun of people and not giving a fuck if they're crying normal? Is laughing at other people's differences or defects normal?"  


"N-no...that's w-wrong," Frank muttered.  


"See? That's it. What they do is wrong, _they_ are wrong. But you...you only have some...let's call them problems if you want, that are not your fault and make you different. _Just different_. Not less than anyone and definitely not worse or wrong. What's more...you're a nice, good boy who cares for people. So in that, you're better than them. And you're also cute, handsome and have very cool hair. I've been thinking of letting mine grow too, Greg says I'd look sexy..." Tony rambled, the randomness of that last part causing Frank to laugh and cough all at once. "You know what, kid? _Fuck_ being normal, you're lucky to be special."  


"Y-you think, T-tony?"  


"Yep, so don't let the 'normal' assholes get you down, ok?"  


"K-kay," he answered and looked at me. "D-don't feel too w-well."  


"I think he has a fever," I said. 

Anthony rested his palm on Frank's forehead, startling him. There was like an electric current in between them every time they touched. "Yeah, he does," he assented. "You have a car?"  


"I didn't bring it, Frankie wanted to walk."  


"Then we'll give you a ride, we have the van outside. Clothe him well, first," Tony advised.  


He had to support Frank when I made him sit straight, because he was swaying. I wrapped the scarf around his neck also covering his nose and mouth, zipped the jacket all the way up and lowered the hood on his head.  


"I'm gonna go get our van and wait for you at the door." Greg quickly kissed Anthony and left. 

I was going to get up with Frankie in my arms when his dad stopped me. "I don't think that's good for your shoulder. I'll do it."  


"Oh, it's fine, I carry him very often anyway."  


"But I'm here now, so you don't have to," he insisted.  


"Are you sure?"  


"Please," he added, and the supplication was reflected in his clear eyes.  


"Uh I...I'm f-fat...h-heavy," Frankie babbled as the man lifted him with the same care as if he was a baby.  


"No you're not. Hold on tight so you don't fall," he indicated. 

Frankie threw his arms around Tony's shoulders, leaning his feverish head on them too; his legs locked on his carrier's hips. Before he started to walk, Anthony gave himself a few seconds to grasp the importance of the situation: sixteen years later, his son was in his arms again. He hugged him, tears running down freely now that Frankie couldn't see them. His hands soothingly rubbed the boy's back, though it was himself who needed to calm down. By the way in which he was breathing, I was sure that his heart was running at miles per second.  


I climbed into the back of the van. Tony vacillated, but finally deposited Frank on my lap, who snuggled in my arms right away and closed his eyes.  


"He adores you." Anthony smiled, wiping away his tears.  


"He'll get to adore you too, the energy between you can be felt from far away. He likes you."  


"Oh, you noticed? It was...incredible, overwhelming," he expressed dreamily, catching the new tears as they were produced. "But...I wasn't talking about _me_. What Frankie feels for you can't be replaced."  


And with that, he kissed my head paternally and sat beside us. Frankie was either asleep or too groggy to respond to anything that happened around him. I didn't ask Anthony what he had meant, but it occurred to me that maybe he didn't need us to tell him what kind of relationship Frankie and I had. Maybe our bond was as tangible as theirs.

"Don't you wanna go in the front with Greg?" I questioned.  


"He understands...I need some more minutes with Frankie, even if it's only to watch him sleep," he murmured. "Do you have something to give him when you get home?"  


"Uh...no, I don't think I do. I've been giving him aspirins since it was just a cold so far."  


"Greg!" Tony called the one behind the wheel. "Would you stop by a pharmacy?"  


"Ok! I think there's one two blocks from here, right Gerard? We don't know this town that much."  


"Yes, just follow this same avenue, it's on the left. And thanks."  


"Gerard...'thanks' is unneeded here." Iero smiled.

After he bought an anti-febrile syrup for Frankie and some other stuff just in case, I gave them directions and they took us home. Tony gladly offered to carry Frank inside, and as we got into the house I instructed him to leave him on the couch. We got him rid of the extra clothing, covered him with a blanket and checked his temperature. It was high, but not dangerously so.  


"You should get him to drink the syrup while he's awake," Tony reminded me.  


"You're right, let me get a spoon." I went for it and carefully poured the reddish substance. It was for kids and smelled sweet. "Frankie, take this so you'll feel better"  


He groaned and hid behind a cushion. "N-no I don't w-want anything."   


"It's just a spoonful of it, and I'm sure it doesn't taste bad. Come on, then you can go back to sleep."  


"N-no, get off!"  


"Frankie," I sighed while Tony made him sit. "open your mouth."  


"N-NO!" he shouted, and then coughed and whined grabbing his head. "H-head hurts, sh-shut up and l-leave me alone. An-and you sh-shut up too, d-don't wanna h-hear you."  


"Drink this and your head will get better." I neared the spoon and he slapped my hand, sending it flying and scattering the syrup all over our faces and the floor.  


"T-told you I d-don't want to," he stated. 

Anthony saw my defeat. "Let me try." He filled the spoon again, keeping it at a safe distance from Frank. "Frankie, you have a fever, that's why you feel so shitty and your head hurts. This will make it better. You drink it and we won't bother you anymore and you can lie down again."  


"B-but...no..." he sniffed.  


"Come on, you're a big boy," Tony tried, but Frank wouldn't yield. "It's strawberry flavor....Gerard told me it's your favorite."  


"Y-you're lying."  


"No, I'm not lying. I'd tell you to smell it, but you probably can't smell anything right now."  


"N-no, n-nose's stuffed."  


"Then try it, if it's not strawberry you can throw the rest to my face," Iero proposed. 

Frank observed the spoon distrustfully, only slightly sipping at the syrup. 

"So, Frankie?"  


"It...it's s-strawberry. T-tastes good, y-yeah," he admitted, then closed his eyes and screamed. "Y-YES IT IS, YOU KN-KNOW NOTHING, I T-TRIED IT! G-gonna drink it all to f-feel better."  


"Don't listen to him," Tony said, understanding what was happening. "Drink it all...good."  


"C-can I sleep n-now?"  


"Yep. Bye, Frankie, I'll see you again _very_ soon." He kissed the boy's head. 

Before he walked away, Frank beckoned him. "B-bye, Tony. Y-you're cool." He kissed his cheek.  


******  


"Oh God, this is too damn hard," Anthony breathed out at the door before leaving. "Frankie's so sweet...and for moments I feel like he _knows_ who I am."  


"I thought the same. And believe me, I want to tell him as much as you do..."  


"I know Gerard, I understand. I told you I was gonna do things right no matter what. It's just that I can't help crying when I watch him, when I hear him talk. Two weeks ago he was just a sad memory...and ashes in a box. It's like a dream, I'm still terrified that I'll wake up all of a sudden. And when he k-kissed my cheek...I thought I'd explode with happiness. Words are really not enough to th-thank you, Gerard. I'll find another way, I promise," he wept.  


"You don't have to do anything. Knowing that you care, that you love Frankie, seeing you so happy...is enough. And principally, meeting Frankie was the most important thing that's happened to me. We've helped each other, we've _saved_ each other."  


"I know." He gave me one of his warm embraces. "Take care of him, and call me when it's time."  


I went back inside, finding Frankie sound asleep. There were drops of sweat on his forehead, yet he was curled up below the blanket trembling. I added an extra blanket and resolved to take a fast shower.

A couple of hours later Frank's fever had receded, thought he was still fretful and looking miserable. I was expecting to see the remote control being launched at any moment, since he didn't seem to like anything that was on TV. Usually, when that happened, he would just entertain himself wondering through all the channels. Now he was also bitching, kicking the coffee table and changing his position every ten seconds.  


"Frankie? You should have taken your pills earlier, but I didn't want to wake you up. Guess you can do it during dinner. What do you wanna eat?" I joined him on the couch only to have him move to the opposite side of it.  


"N-nothing, not h-hungry," he worded what I hadn't heard in weeks.  


"You can't take your pills without eating."  


"Th-then I won't take m-my pills, I..." he got into a fit of cough. "M-make it s-stop..."  


"Shh, come here." I gathered him in my arms and massaged his back. "Tony bought you something for the cough too, but you'll have to be a good boy and take all the meds."  


"L-later."  


"Ok, but now you need to have dinner. Want me to make some fries?"  


"K-kay. F-fries are g-good. Th-they like them t-too."  


"Who?"  


"Th-the little p-people."  


"I'll go make fries for all, then." I fixed a cushion under his head and went to the kitchen. It wasn't the best day to debate about his hallucinations.  


I had only sliced the potatoes when I heard Frankie coughing more than ever. As I was running back to the living room there was an unpleasant, well known sound. Frankie was laying on his stomach, his head poking out of the couch and his hands griping the edge desperately. He had vomited all over the floor and was now crying.

I climbed beside him, trying not to breathe. Cleaning pee was no problem to me and I didn't wince much when Puppy shitted inside the house, but I _couldn't_ stand vomit. It revolted me to a large extent.  


"Come on Gerard, you can do this for Frankie," I encouraged myself. I lifted him and held him close. I could smell it, it was in his hair because he hadn't had time to get it off his face.  


"D-don't like it, G-gee, please do s-something, p-please I f-feel so like c-crap," he hiccuped.  


"Calm down, baby. Let's go to the bathroom, we'll get you clean and I'll take you to bed." 

I helped him up fighting the nausea. I wanted to escape that stench, but Frankie was sick and scared; I couldn't fail him. I knew it was a natural downside to taking care of someone, and I had to be thankful that it was the first time that had happened. It wouldn't be the last one, so I would have to get used to it.  


"W-wait!" Frank cried out and fell on his knees, throwing up again. When it seemed that he didn't have more to get out, he stayed there heaving and sobbing. I brought him to his feet once again and felt bile rise up my throat as he wiped his chin with his sleeve.

In the bathroom I washed his face, hands and some locks of hair, and made him rinse his mouth. Then I assisted him to change into his pajamas, tied his hair and got him into bed.  


"I'll leave this bucket here so you can easily reach it if you need to throw up again, ok?"  


"K-kay, but d-don't leave," he begged.  


"I'll be back, I need to clean up," I replied kissing his lips. "I love you."  


Covering my nose and mouth, I circumvented the puddle of puke and cowered in the kitchen with my cellphone.  


"Gerard...what's up, son? You know I'm working now. Is there any problem?"  


"Yes, mom, there is! Frank is sick."  


"I know sweetheart, you told me yesterday that he had a cold. He won't die." She chuckled. She fucking _laughed_ at my concern.  


"But mom! Today we went out for some hours and then he got a fever...and now he's been vomiting. Maybe something's worse than I thought?"  


"Did you give him something for the fever?"  


"Yes, and it passed."  


"Then he's fine, sometimes colds come with fever. " she said calmly.  


"But he threw up like... _a lot_!" I told her, disgusted by just the thought of it.  


"It's freezing outside, the change of temperature could have messed up his stomach. Give him some antivomitive when possible and it'll most probably stop."  


"What if it doesn't?"  


"Gerard...it'll stop. And you stop panicking, it's not deadly!" she raised her voice. "I gotta go back to work, son. Really, don't worry that much."  


"No, uh...mom? I think I need help."  


"You can do this, it's no big deal."  


"No I _can't_ , I hate puke and it's like...everywhere waiting to be cleaned and..."  


"Gerard...shut up and clean it. _No one_ likes puke, it's one of the things you'll have to get used to. If we mothers can, why wouldn't you? Bye, sonny!"  


"Mom...mom? And she fucking hung up on me! Fuck, fuck fuck..." I cursed, grudgingly going for some cleaning supplies.

As careful as I was, my fingers touched the vomit several times. Even when they didn't, I had enough with having to pick up the cloth drenched in it. It was one of my most loathsome experiences ever and it ended with me racing to the bathroom. I managed to avoid puking by doing some improvised breathing exercises and keeping my mind blank, but I was glad I had finished my task.  


My other preoccupation was that I wouldn't be able to give Frankie his pills. One intake less might not make a big difference, specially because he was pretty tired anyway. If he didn't get better by the morning, though, then I'd have to call Goldberg and ask him what to do.  


My hopes of not having to see and smell any more vomit were crushed when I entered the room. Frank was at it again, although into the bucket this time. When he was done I threw the contents in the toilet, brought the bucket back and collapsed on the bed. No way I would have dinner, my stomach was revolted.  


"I...I'm c-cold and c-can't breathe through m-my nose and...and my t-tummy hurts. D-don't let me d-die." Frankie cried, cuddling with me. I could smell his breath, but endured it.  


"You won't die, you'll be better tomorrow. Try to sleep, I'll be here with you."  


"K-kay but I d-don't think I'll be b-better. F-feel too b-bad."  


"D-don't speak, close your eyes and relax."  


"K-kiss me?" he asked. 

And I didn't falter, even if he smelt like puke I didn't. I loved the boy, indeed.  


Two more times he threw up, followed by crying and shaking. After the last one, I waited a prudential time and made him drink a small glass of juice that I had mixed with antivomitive. It worked at last, and he slept the rest of the night. A disquiet sleep, but with no more smelly interruptions.

In the morning I left Frankie sleeping and went to fetch myself a tea. It was all I could have and retain after the previous night. I was sitting there, surrounding the cup with my hands to warm them, when Frankie made his entrance wrapped in the quilt. He was white as snow except for the dark marks under his swollen eyes, and his hair resembled a bird nest. Still, he looked beautiful.  


"G-gee..." he grumbled and coughed.  


"Oh please, not again," I thought before answering. "Morning, pretty. What's wrong?"  


"Y-you meanie didn't m-make me b-breakfast and...and I'm h-hungry!" 


	53. Chapter 53

_Every rose has its thorn,  
just like every night has its dawn.  
Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song.  
Every rose has its thorn._

Frank stood there pouting and I couldn't believe what I had heard. My own stomach was still scrambled from the night before!  


"Frankie, you've spent the night throwing up." I tried to kiss him but he pushed me away.  


"Y-yes but now my t-tummy's okay and I'm h-hungry." He scratched his head, tangling his hair even more.  


"Are you sure?"  


"Y-yes I'm t-telling you!"  


"Ok, ok! Sit down and I'll make you a tea." I guided him to the kitchen table where he plumped into a chair, then I touched his face."You're kinda warm again, you'll have to take that syrup after breakfast."  


Frank glared, smacking my hand. "N-NO, I WON'T T-TAKE ANYTHING! AND...AND I D-DON'T WANT A F-FUCKING TEA, G-GIMME MY C-CEREAL!  


"Baby, please...calm down. You've been sick, I think a tea would be better at least for today," I told him, upset with his state. Having been twenty four hours without his meds had only added to Frankie's cold-caused bad mood.  


"I D-DON'T WANT T-TEA, I T-TOLD YOU! F-FUCK! Y-YOU DON'T UN-UNDERSTAND ME! I...I'M H-HUNGRY AND YOU'RE M-MEAN!" He got up, grabbed the chair and cast it against the cupboard's door. I saw a leg make a dent on the wood before the seat landed mere inches away from me. "F-FUCK YOU!"  


"FRANKIE!"  


"F-FUCK YOU!" He ran out of the room coughing, tripped over the blanket and fell. He didn't look in pain, only enraged and indignant.

"Babe, are you ok?" I asked, attempting to pick him up.  


"D-DON'T TOUCH M-ME! D-DON'T!" he shouted almost losing his voice, then hit the floor with his fists and yelled at it. He wasn't pale anymore but ruddy. "I...I'M N-NOT PLAYING, ID-IDIOTS! Y-YOU MADE ME F-FALL! EV-EVERYBODY'S MEAN! I H-HATE YOU ALL!"  


"Frankie please, don't say that. You know I love you. Don't get mad at me, I can't stand it..." I leaned on the corridor's wall and slid to the floor, crying. 

I wished to reach out for Frankie, but he scared me when he acted that way, I knew he could be dangerous. I understood that he didn't mean to treat me like that, and I would never love him any less even if he hurt me badly. However, I didn't want him to have more to regret once he came down from this episode.  


"I W-WANT CEREAL! N-NOT TEA, H-HATE TEA! SH-SHUT UP. EV-EVERYBODY SHUT UP 'C-CAUSE MY HEAD H-HURTS!" He lied down completely and disappeared under the blanket. I realised that he was also crying because of the way his back rose and fell. After some seconds his sobs were audible and he got into a serious coughing fit. 

I crawled and touched him through the fabric. 

He sat up startled, his face twisted and stained. "N-no...no. Y-YOU'RE MEAN!"  


"I l-love you," I whispered. 

He cried, coughed, hiccuped and cried even more because he was choking. "H-hungry...hungry and y-you don't w-wanna gimme f-food. M-mean...m-mean..." he mumbled angrily, unable to scream anymore. 

Again I tried to touch him, and he kicked and scratched my wrists.  


"I love you, Frankie. Very, very much. Stop, baby, you're hurting me," I pleaded, weeping. As soon as I had a chance I trapped him in my arms, employing all my strength.  


"L-lemme go! N-now...n-no!" He wiggled violently and we rolled on the floor, but I didn't let him go. He thrust his nails into any part of me he could reach and bit my arm, yet I held on to him. His heart was beating madly and it terrified me.  


He gradually stopped combating me, more out of exhaustion than anything else; he seemed to be about to spit out his lungs. 

I kissed his head and spoke into his ear. "I love you, I want the best for you. You know that, right? Please tell me that you know, Frankie baby."  


He stayed still, coughing, whimpering and panting. "I kn-know. I...I l-love you t-too. L-lot." His voice was extremely faint.  


"Sit down and wait here." I left him well wrapped up in the blanket and went back to the kitchen. I returned with a tissue and a glass of water.  


"Blow as much as you can." I held the napkin to his nose. "That's it. Now drink slowly, I'll hold the glass for you."  


"F-fuck..." He stopped to cough. "...b-back hurts."  


I removed the sweaty hair off his face. "I know, I'll give you something for the cough later." 

 Frank squinted, trying to focus his eyes since he didn't have his glasses on. He touched my face, worried. Only then I felt the sting and assumed he had scraped me with his nails.  


"I...I d-did this, right? I h-hurt you. _B-bad_ Frankie. I...I'm a v-very bad b-boy. F-fucked up. W-wrong." He sniffed. "I d-didn't want to. I l-love you, G-gee. D-don't be mad I...w-won't do it ag-again..."  


"Yes, you did, but I'm not mad. I know you didn't mean it, I know, don't worry. It's ok now, you're fine." I put my hand on his, which was still tracing the wound. "And _this_ , is nothing."  


"B-but...no..." he faltered. 

Suddenly, Puppy came skipping and jumped on Frank's lap, licking his face.  


"See? Puppy loves you, too." I caressed the small dog.  


"An-and I love P-puppy." A stream of tears ran down his face. "G-gerard?  


"Yes, babe?"  


"Y-you'll still be my b-boyfriend?"  


"Of course, I'll _always_ want to be your boyfriend. Now let's go for your cereal." I picked him up and carried him back to the chair.  


 Frankie rubbed his nose and looked more like a puppy than his pet. "C-can I?"   


"What?"  


"H-have cereal? Y-you said..."  


"Yes, but only if you take your pills and then all the other meds," I settled the terms.  


"K-kay. I w-was bad so now w-wanna be good. P-promise."  


"Stop saying that, you're weren't bad, you're _never_ bad. It's not your fault. Toasts?"  


"Y-yes. N-not for the l-little assholes. Th-they made me f-fall. Y-yes."  


"None for them, understood!"

Frankie ate the toast with the pills first, smiling at me timidly. He felt guilty, and he probably knew deep inside that as much as he had promised not to do it again, he could not help it. He then began to spoon up his cereal messily. I couldn't tell if it was his normal shaking or it was because of the fever, but I considered it prudent to not offer assistance unless he asked for it.

"Wh-where are my g-glasses, Gee?" he asked softly.  


"I'll go for them." I pecked his cheek and it was burning, though he didn't appear to feel as shitty as the day before. The fighting and screaming had surely contributed in raising his body temperature.  


"F-found them? Th-they weren't in the r-room."  


"Here, they were in the living room."  


"Ahh." He put them on and went silent. 

I had the need to break that silence and change the subject at the same time. "Frankie, what did you think of my friend Tony?" I hadn't had a chance to question him about it yet.  


"I l-like him, he's v-very cool and n-nice. G-greg is n-nice, too. B-but Tony speaks m-more so it's b-better, and h-he likes ch-chocolate like me and has th-the same name as me and...and his l-little son's called F-frankie!" He seemed eager to talk about it and it would help him forget the guilt.  


"Yes, you have many things in common, he also loves music."  


"Y-yes he does! On-only...he likes it l-loud. I d-don't, n-no loud noise. And....he d-defended me when th-those kids were l-laughing! S-saw that? H-he said the s-same thing you s-say. Th-that it's good to be s-special. H-he likes me the s-same." He grinned.  


"Why wouldn't he? You're awesome, he also said that!"  


"And h-he likes m-my hair and w-wants to have l-long hair too!"  


"Do you think it'd look good on him?" I asked a random question just to maintain the dialog.  


"Uh...y-you know? H-his hair looks like m-mine when it was sh-shorter! S-so maybe yes 'cause...'c-cause mine looks g-good. I l-like it like th-this, yes."  


"Well, I like it too." I laughed looking at the disaster it was at the moment. "Only...a little more...brushed."  


"L-later," he stated. Everything was 'later' for him.  


"You can keep it like that for today, but tomorrow you won't escape the brush."  


"K-kay..." He left the spoon and was pensive. "I th-thought I knew T-tony."  


"Do you?" I sat closer to Frankie, showing my interest. I'd been waiting for him to say something like that. The way he looked at Anthony the whole time had been really intriguing to me.  


"I d-don't think I d-do. D-dunno...no. D-didn't know h-him, guess. B-but...felt l-like I did. W-weird," he doubted. "An-and when he t-touched me was w-weirder...it like...t-tickled. Y-yes."  


I tried to hide my emotions after hearing him say that. "Tickled? And did you like that feeling?"   


"Y-yes...it was f-funny...felt g-good here." He touched his chest. "S-so weird...you th-think he felt th-the same?"  


"Not sure, maybe he did. You could ask him next time, would you like to see him again?"  


"Yes! H-his little F-frankie's so l-lucky." He chewed on his thumb while talking. It was fitting that he had such an infantile gesture.  


"Why do you say that?"  


"'C-cause...he h-has a dad, a n-nice dad. I h-had Grace that was l-like a mom, and now h-have Donna. S-so Mikey's like a b-brother, g-grumpy one! Y-you're not like a b-brother 'cause...you're my b-boyfriend. And I have un-uncle Ray, and B-bob's my f-friend. B-but...no dad." His face saddened with his last words. "Y-your dad never c-comes so he c-can't meet me and b-be my dad."  


"You're so sweet, baby." I abandoned my chair to hug and kiss him. I didn't know what I could tell him without confessing the truth. I wanted Frankie to know that he _did_ have a dad, but I needed to wait until he felt better and do it correctly.  


"I...I'd l-like to be like l-little Frankie," he said, and I had to bite my tongue.

During the rest of the day Frank was extremely quiet and took all the medicines without any quarrel. I noticed he avoided looking at my face much; and whenever he did he'd lower his eyes when seeing the mark left by his nails. He had also scratched my legs and back and adorned my forearm with a nice mold of his teeth, but I didn't let him know.  


He refused to go back to bed as I had suggested, but complied to stay in his pajamas and lie down on the couch. I resolved to join him and spend some hours there watching movies. Even though he didn't last much awake, I still didn't leave. I wanted Frank to be certain that nothing had changed between us. I had the urge to let him see that I wasn't angry because of what he'd done. We were going to be through similar circumstances dozens of times in our life together, and he _needed_ to understand that I would never blame him. I'd be with him through thick and thin.  


When he woke up later and I asked him if he wanted to have lunch, he said that I owed him the fries. I could only pray this wouldn't end up bad again.  


"Frankie, you can't eat fries. Choose another meal?"  


"N-no! I w-want _fries_ , wh-why so mean?" he labeled me for the second time that day. 

I sighed and thought of a way to persuade him without causing another conflict. "I'm not refusing to make you fries just because I'm mean, baby."  


"Th-then why?"  


"Tell me something, do you like throwing up?" I tried him. 

Frank eyeballed me shocked. "Of c-course not, d-duh!" he spat. "It...it's h-horrible!"  


"Well, if you eat fries now, you're probably gonna be throwing up again in a couple of hours. Your stomach needs time to get better, and some kinds of food don't help."  


"B-but I like th-them!"  


"I know, and I promise to make you _a mountain_ of fries once you're okay." I gave him the idea of size with my hands. "But for now...would you have mashed potatoes?"  


"O-okay, but _a m-mountain_ of mashed p-potatoes," he gestured exaggeratedly.  


"You're _that_ hungry?"  


"Y-yes, very h-hungry." He smiled, rubbing his belly. I had never known anyone with such a good appetite while being sick.  


******  


By late afternoon, I had to be honest to Frank and tell him that he stank; he had sweat a lot because of the fever and his nervous attack earlier. Taking into consideration that he was a little dizzy and felt rather lazy and groggy, I proposed to share a hot bath instead of the usual shower. What's more, I thought that the steam would help ease Frank's cold, which it did. Apart from the fact that he loved the bath and even played with a rubber duck, he was also breathing much better afterwards and it alleviated his catarrh.  


That night was considerably more relaxed. So was the following day, which I took off work and consisted of us lazing around, kissing, touching; close to what any other couple in love would do on a boring rainy day at home. Only close, since we were still not even thinking about taking the next last steps into our relationship.

Once and again I imagined all the possible reactions Anthony could have when getting to know what there was between Frankie and me. I was hoping for him to have guessed it, so I wouldn't have to actually _say_ it. If he had, indeed, presumed it, he didn't seem to mind. It was too good to be true.  


******  


Ray's POV

I was pleased to hear that Frankie was feeling a lot better that day. From what Gerard told me, half of the weekend had been hell. He seemed evasive and hadn't given me any details, though. His answers were brief and constrained, like when I asked him what had happened to his face. He had a scratch on his right cheek and hurried to say that Puppy had done that to him while playing. I didn't insist, but I knew he was lying; I knew how Gerard looked when he hid something that Frank had done.  


My friend didn't understand that there was no need to hide anything from me. I admitted that, in the beginning, I had my reservations about him keeping Frankie. Since that night when the boy became so aggressive, I had been afraid that Gerard wouldn't be able to cope with him. But months later and after everything they had gone through, after all the danger Gerard had gotten himself into for Frank, I had no more doubts. Gerard _could_ handle the situation, and even more important he _wanted_ to.  


Moreover, I had come to know Frankie very well. He was incredible, a kid who made you _wish_ to spend time with him. Even if he had some difficult days once in a while and could take you to the limit when he was stubborn, his bright side was so endearing that it gave you the strength to put up with his downside. Frankie was worth all of our patience.

 _Rewarding._ It was a word I had heard a lot coming from people who worked with or took care of 'special' kids. Now I truly knew what it meant. When Frankie called me 'uncle', when he gave me drawings to take home, when we listened to music and played air-guitar together. When we ran around the house as horse and horseman or just let the day go by watching silly movies or reading. When we played Mario, tried to imitate hand crafts saw on TV or cleaned the house. When we had our junk-food days, stealing fries from each other. When he allowed me to play the teacher, making me realise that helping someone learn was maybe the most important thing I had done in my life. All that was _rewarding_.

Sure, not every day was as good. Some days Frankie barely paid attention to me, or he even insulted me and told me to leave him alone. But I knew that wasn't him, I knew he didn't mean it.  
That's why I understood Gerard. I knew that no matter how far Frank went, he would never give up on him. He loved him, they were _boyfriends_ ; and as much as that still scared me I would not question it anymore. It had worked so far, they had made it.

I had told my friend that he could be sincere, but there were things he still kept from me. I could read him like a book, yet most of times I waited for him to come to me when he was ready. Why hadn't he told me that it was Frank who hurt him? Was he afraid that I would advise him to give him away, hospitalize him? I'd _never_ do that, not after months, not when Frankie was such a huge part of my life too.

******  


It was one of the good days. Calm and idle, propitious for Frankie to practice some reading or for us to just talk about random stuff. I loved to hear him relate his weekend, because he could turn any tiny detail -unimportant to anyone else- into a great event.  


"W-we didn't do much on S-sunday 'cause...'cause I was s-sick. I thro-wed up a lot the n-night before. Y-yeah. On...on the floor t-two times! S-smelled eww. Th-then in a b-bucket, m-many more times. S-so bad, f-felt shitty. B-but then G-gee gave me m-meds and it s-stopped."  


"Oh...good that it passed," I commented, vomit not being my favorite subject. I didn't think it was anyone's, really. "So this weekend wasn't great, uh? Was Monday any better?"  


"Y-yes!" he nearly cheered and his eyes shined. I knew what was coming. "G-gee stayed and we c-cuddled a lot, and k-kissed and p-played something and th-then kissed again and t-touched and..."  


"Enough, boy! I imagine...spare me the rest," I stopped him. 

He often tried to tell me everything he did with Gerard. In his mind, if something was good there was no reason to not talk about it. He was right somehow, but I didn't feel comfortable finding out about my best friend and my heart-nephew's love life. On the other hand, even if I always cut him off, seeing Frank's face let me know things were alright.  


Frankie giggled, amused by my flushed cheeks. "Oh, b-but on F-friday, before the p-puking we w-went out!" he recalled. "Th-that was great. G-gee took me to m-meet his f-friend and he's like s-super nice!"  


"Which friend?" I asked. As far as I was aware of, he knew all of Gerard's friends. At least the closest ones that he trusted enough to introduce Frankie to.  


"T-tony. W-well, his n-name's Anthony but ev-everybody calls him T-tony," he said. 

I'd never ever heard Gerard mention a friend called that, never. However, it kinda rang a bell. Anthony was Frank's middle name, but that wasn't why, it was _the nickname_ what sounded familiar.  


"Oh...I don't know that friend of Gee, weird!"  


"Y-you don't? I th-thought I knew him f-first, but I d-didn't, nope. H-he's awesome, th-though he's a lot m-more older than G-gee and me. Y-yes, he's 36. An-and he has a b-band. T-tony plays gu-guitar and his b-boyfriend Greg plays d-drums and he's g-gonna teach me!"  


"How come he never told me about this friend?" I thought aloud, gathering the information Frank had given me to try and figure out who that Anthony could be. A 36-year old Tony who plays in a band?

Then an idea hit me. I remembered where I had heard that nickname related to Gerard, or better said to Frankie. That was how Linda's ex neighbor had referred to Frankie's supposed father. Anthony, yes, who according to his mother played in a band. But it couldn't be the same person. Gerard wouldn't get in touch with a drug dealer who had been in jail, would he? He would even less allow Frankie to meet him. No, no way. Besides, this Tony that Frank had met was gay, he had a _boyfriend_. It was probably just a big, creepy coincidence.

"D-dunno. M-maybe he didn't w-want you to be j-jealous? B-but don't w-worry, Ray, y-you're Gee's best-est friend." He hugged me sweetly and coughed, surely spreading his viruses.  


"I'm not jealous, just curious!!" I laughed and dug deeper. "What else did that man tell you about himself?"  


"Uh...th-that he has a s-son called F-frank! B-but he's a _little_ F-frankie. T-two years old, y-yes. H-he said he m-missed him, d-dunno why. H-he didn't s-say." 

Frank got slightly distracted as he petted his dog that had climbed onto the couch with us. He acted so carefree while my head was working at full speed. That was _too much_ for a coincidence. Tony missed _his son Frank_? Frankie had said that the kid was 2 years old, but what if...? No. Once again, Gerard would _not_ risk Frankie like that.  


"R-ray? Wh-what you th-thinking? Y-you feel bad?" He tilted his head, watching me with worried eyes.  


"I'm fine, Frankie. I was just thinking...boring things. You can go on." I nodded. "So Tony was nice to you?"  


"Y-yes, very. And wh-when he touched my h-hand or...or my f-face it felt w-weird, it t-tickled. H-he likes me th-though I'm not n-normal and...and he b-bitched at some b-boys that w-were laughing at m-me. Th-then he t-talked to me 'cause he d-didn't want me to be s-sad. Af-after that we l-left cause I had a f-fever and they t-took us home and T-tony buyed m-meds and s-stayed a little." He spoke passionately and uninterruptedly. 

By now I was convinced that it was the same Tony, and at the same time I couldn't believe it. "He stayed _here_ for a while?"  


"Y-yes...to g-give me a th-thing for the f-fever," Frankie responded looking down. I guessed that he hadn't made things easy. He hated medicines, was sick and tired of them.  


Now...Gerard had found Frank's father and let him meet his son just like that? The man, a total stranger, had been inside the house? It seemed improbable, but there weren't many doubts left. That guy had stood up for Frankie, given him a reassuring talk and bought him meds for his cold. On top of it all, Frankie had said that he felt something weird upon physical contact.

I was stunned, I thought Gerard had really had enough after he was shot. I had been obviously wrong, but he would have to hear me.  


"R-ray!" Frank's hand appeared in front of my face. I had gone completely absent. "I...I'm h-hungry!"  


"Already? Gerard told me that you got a big bowl of cornflakes and milk, five toasts with marmalade and a cheese bun for breakfast. And that was just _two hours ago,_ " I recounted. Gerard always informed me of what Frank ate so the boy could not trick me into feeding him at middle morning.  


"D-don't care, I'm h-hungry again."  


"You'll have to wait until lunch, I'm not giving you anything now," I upheld.  


"P-pleeeease, uncle R-ray. I...I'm s-starving!" He put his hands together like praying.  


"Frankie, you're not gonna convince me by doing that and making puppy eyes. If you continue to eat so much, pretty soon you won't fit into your new jeans either. Then you'll cry like a girl," I provoked him. Gerard said I was mean sometimes, but I liked to joke around with Frankie. All the contrary to what my friend thought, it was beneficial for him. Even though Frank got angry and bitched back at me, deep inside it pleased him to be treated like an equal. Like he was my friend and not a little boy I was babysitting.  


Frankie slapped my arm. "I d-don't cry like a g-girl! Sh-shut up and g-gimme something!"   


"Yes, you do! 'Gee...I'm fat!' or 'Rayyy, am I too heavy?'" I whined imitating him. 

He gasped and glanced at me open mouthed. "I D-DON'T SPEAK LIKE TH-THAT, ASSHOLE!" he screamed, and I knew that was as far as I would get with my jokes.  


"Ok, ok, don't get angry! I was only joking. But really, it's not that we're mean and want you to starve. You've complained yourself about being fat, haven't you?"  


"Y-yes, but I d-don't care an-anymore!" he retorted.  


"Well, that's good to hear. Still, eating more than the necessary is not good for your health. Come on, you can wait until lunch."  


"N-no I can't. H-hungry, I s-swear I am!" He sniffed.  


"Ok." I sighed. "I can give you an apple, what do you say? Oh, and don't even _try_ asking me to make you fries for lunch. That's still a 'no' for a few more days."  


"Y-you're so s-so evil!" Frankie grumbled.  


"Mr. Evil to you, Frankie boy! So...want the apple?" I smirked and waited, watching him closely. 

He intended to keep an angry face, but finally yielded and gave me a crooked smile. The smile turned into a grin and finally he was laughing and coughing. "Y-yes I want the a-apple, M-mister Evil!"  


While Frankie took his nap, I thought of a way to have a conversation with Gerard without delay. The inconvenience was Frank, he couldn't hear us. I went for my cellphone and called Bob. We weren't close friends, but we had exchanged numbers the day of the zoo.  


"It's Ray."  


"Ray? Is there something wrong with Gerard or Frankie?" Bob got alarmed  


"No no, everything's fine!"  


"Oh, thank fuck! It's just that I wasn't expecting you to call..." he explicated.  


"I know. What's up is...I need a favor."  


"Tell me quickly just in case my boss shows his ugly face."  


"I gotta talk to Gerard about something important, and I don't want Frankie to hear. Could you come here after work? It'd be just for a while. If I told _Gerard_ to call you, he'd probably lie and say you can't come. He fears my 'we need to talk', you know?"  


Bob laughed."I know! Yes, no problem, I'm always available for my friend Frankie."  


"Perfect! Thanks Bob, bye!"  


"Bye, Ray!"

******  


Gerard's POV   


When I got home, I was surprised to find Bob there, drawing with Frankie and Ray. 

After I paid Frankie the owed attention, I looked at both my friends who were staring at each other awkwardly. "Is there any problem? Why are you here, Bob?"  


"Heyyy! Can't I visit Frankie?"  


"Of course you can, but something tells me that's not the only reason why you're here..."  


"I called him," Ray cut me off. "I need to talk to you about something, so I asked Bob to stay with Frankie for a while."  


"What the...?" I had a bad feeling. This couldn't be good, Ray had surely found out something. What if...? I realised that I'd completely forgotten to ask Frankie to not talk about Tony. It _had_ to be it. I was dead. "Alright."  


"Frankie, I'll be back soon. Please, don't make a mess out of the house this time, ok?" I told him while actually eying Bob.  


"K-kay!"  


"You're screwed, man," Bob whispered in my ear.  


"I know."  


	54. Chapter 54

_Sharin' the laughter, sharin' the tears  
and the promises we keep.  
Life can be crazy, love can be cruel,  
but it's always been a two-way street._

"Your face tells me you know what I wanna talk about," Ray said when we had been walking for a couple of blocks. I supposed that we were going to the park.  


"I have an idea of what it could be, but I'd rather you tell me first."  


"Why? Are there so many things you haven't told me that you're afraid you might give away the wrong secret?" Ray snorted. For a moment I considered the possibility that he might not be as angry as he had first seemed, but a quick glance was enough for me to verify that I had perceived him right. 

I didn't know how to answer his questioning. It's not that I had more to hide, but what if he wanted to discuss a completely different subject and I ended up confessing about Tony? I _did_ intend to tell him, but only when able to boast that everything went alright and there was no need to worry. This conversation could mean a change of plans, though.  


"No, nothing else. But you know I find it hard to start, I wanna hear you first," I mumbled nervously.  


We made it to the yellowy looking park and sat on a tarnished stone bench. The day wasn't as cold as the whole previous week had been, and I would have enjoyed the view and the breeze on my face if I wasn't so on edge. 

A lengthy sigh fell from Ray's lips as he looked up at a red kite dancing with the wind. "I don't know what to ask you first, so I'll just start with the most general questions," he spoke without removing his eyes from the flying object. "How could you continue with your investigation after you were fucking _shot_ , Gerard? How could you put Frankie and yourself at risk again like that?"  


"What do you mean? I didn't..." I couldn't finish. His reproaching stare fell on me.  


" _Anthony_. How could you?"  


"Ray..." It was my turn to sigh as I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers. "You probably won't believe me, but I didn't investigate anymore after I was shot."  


"Yeah sure, and the guy appeared out of nowhere?" he asked incredulous.  


"No, it wasn't like that. Look, I'd found out something about him before the incident."  


"You never told me..."  


"I didn't because I got nothing usable out of it. All I did was google the guy's name plus 'band'. The only fitting link took me to a review of one of their shows. I wrote down the name of the band -The Homeless Souls- and the place's number. But when I called, they told me that they were a _traveling_ band. They present themselves at random cities, demonstrate what they know and hope to be hired for one night. If they're lucky, people who see them might recommend them and invite them to play somewhere else. They leave no telephone number, though, except for when they stay at hotels. So, since I had no way to locate Anthony I forgot about it," I explained.  


"Ok, that's clarified, I believe you. But then tell me...how do we get to the part when Frankie meets him?" Ray let out the question that was bothering him the most.  


"Coincidence." I shrugged.  


"Gerard, this isn't an easy subject, don't shrug it off like it's nothing. Could you be more specific?"  


"Ok, you want sincerity?" I blurted out. "Then I'll give you it. I'll be totally sincere because really, I _hate_ hiding things from you, it's just that you're my best friend and sometimes I'm afraid of disappointing you. And I don't wanna worry you or get you into all of my problems, you've helped me enough."  


"Gerard you know I..."  


"No Ray, let me go on, now I wanna tell you all. Remember that afternoon when I called you to say I'd be home a little later?"  


"Yes, you sounded weird," he recalled. "Later you told me that you'd bumped into Gabriel..."  


"Don't give me that look, I didn't lie. That was exactly as I told you. Neither did I lie when I said I hadn't been drinking, I only hid that I'd been _about to,_ that's why I sounded so weird when I called you. There you have it, I called to say I'd be home later because I needed a drink after seeing Gabriel. Now you know how pathetic I am and why I lied." I didn't dare check his face, but then I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Gee, you should have told me. I could have gone for you and stopped you, you know? We could have talked about Gabriel instead."  


"I didn't drink anyway. I _didn't_." I finally met his eyes, and he seemed calmer.  


"I know, and that's why I have no reason to think you're pathetic or to be disappointed. But you _still_ arrived later, what happened? And...what does this have to do with Frank's father?" He was kind of lost after my seemingly off topic confession.  


"It has _everything_ to do with him. I went to the main street and began to look for bars. If it helps clean my image, I'll tell you that I felt a certain apprehension once I got there. I couldn't get myself to cross any door until I saw a new big bar. But I never entered, and that's where the man comes into this story. There was a sign on the door saying that The Homeless Souls would be playing that Friday. Get it now?"  


"Yes, but...then what?" Ray frowned.  


"I went to see them," I uttered while lighting up a needed cigarette. It was moments like this when I craved them. I was an occasional nervous smoker.  


"How? When did you...oh," Ray meditated over my words and I was sure that he'd found the answer. He was just too smart and quick and had a damn good memory. " _that_ Friday..."  


"Yes, _that_ Friday. I lied to you. Except for when I said I wouldn't drink, I didn't. Oh, and I did go with Bob, only that _I_ asked _him_ to come with me because I didn't want to go talk to Anthony by myself."  


"Bob _knows_? Oh! Now I understand why he was acting so strange today! He must have guessed -just like you- what it was that I wanted to talk about! Now...you trusted Bob but not _me_? Gerard, I've known you for about fifteen years!" He sounded disappointed now.  


"You wouldn't have let me go and I had to!"  


"Of course I wouldn't have! And Bob shouldn't have backed you up on this either! What the fuck were you thinking?"  


"Maybe Bob _does_ trust me!" I spat, blowing out smoke like a chimney. "All you do is think that I'll fuck up! I know I've made mistakes, but I've always had good intentions!"  


"You can't be serious. You know it's not that, Gerard. Can't you see I'm just afraid of you and Frankie getting hurt again?" he was crying now, I hadn't seen Ray cry in years and _I_ had made him.

"What did you want me to do in this case, uh?" I raised my voice and felt my eyes fill with tears too. "I couldn't let that opportunity go wasted, Ray! It's Frank's _father_! He'd been told that Frankie was dead, he needed to know it wasn't true! And how can I deny Frankie the chance to know him? Please, you have to understand me!"  


"But it's too dangerous!"  


"No one needs to know, I've been careful! And I'm sure no one has been following us since then, I'd know it," I assured him.  


"It's not just the danger of having the ones who shot you find out. You don't know much about that guy Anthony; and what you do know, is that he's been in jail for selling drugs! Are you sure he's someone you'd want near Frank? Didn't you think he might be better off without him?" he questioned. 

And he was right, really, I had taken a big risk; but as soon as I met Tony I _knew_ he'd changed. I only saw a good man, someone who could have been a great father to Frankie but had been cruelly left with an enormous pain in his heart in exchange for a missing son.  


"I chose to give him a second chance, and I did well," I replied, going for my second smoke.  


"How can you be so sure? Gerard...you even let that guy into your house!"  


"Frankie was sick and he offered to help. I trust him, Ray."  


"You're definitely worse than Frank, really. You can't be left alone that you go and put your lives in danger. Let's suppose the man has changed and he's worth your trust. Have you thought that this Anthony might want to have Frankie with him? And what will he think when he finds out about you being more than Frank's 'savior'?" Ray attacked with everything I feared. But even though I was obviously worried, I had a hunch; a good one.  


"I feel that this will end up well, and I have Goldberg who knows everything and is helping me do things correctly with Frank. Ray...If you met Tony, if you'd seen his face when he learned that his son was alive, how grateful he was that I told him...you'd probably feel the same way."  


"Maybe if you now detail everything you have been keeping from me, I'll be able to understand you."  


"Ok," I agreed.

I told Ray about my first and second meetings with Tony; every word, every reaction, every tear. I even described what I felt when I looked at Anthony and saw how alike he and Frank were. I explained what the psychiatrist had advised and the conversation about fathers I'd had with Frank.  


"Damn, Gerard. Wasn't it a little cruel to make Frankie remember that he's never had a father or...a real family at all? Now I know why he asked me about my dad the other day, he said he'd like to meet him," Ray retraced.  


"I didn't _enjoy_ making him talk about it, but I think he needed to vent, he had a lot of things inside. He cried for his mother for the first time! So far he'd never shown much emotion about it and that honestly worried me. Crying it's a more normal reaction and I think it did him good. He needed to accept the truth and forget about that bitch."  


Ray shook his head. "I hope you're right. I've seen how some situations affect that poor kid, and he's been a little nervous again lately. What did you tell him when you took him to see his father?"  


"That an old friend of mine wanted to meet him. I hate lying to him, but it was necessary. And as he must have told you, he liked Anthony." 

I continued to point out the few things that Frankie had left unmentioned to Ray. I specially exposed my point of view about the incredible connection between father and son.  


"This sounds like a movie..." Ray trailed off, distracted by the kite again. When he eyed me back and saw that I was still smoking, he snatched the cig out of my mouth and killed it under his shoe. "Stop it already."  


"Hey! Leave me alone!" I searched for a new one in my pocket. "Accept that your best friend is not perfect and allow me one vice, fuck!"  


"You're not being fair at all today, you know that? I just think it's stupid that you suddenly smoke three cigarettes in a row when you can go weeks without doing it at all." His voice denoted pain. 

I ended up shoving the white toxic stick back in place. "I'm sorry, I'm...too nervous. When I was aware that you knew, that I'd never instructed Frankie to not tell you about Tony, I panicked. Not as much for the fact itself, but the realization that I'd lied to you more than once, that I'd done so much behind your back and now I'd have to face you. I'm really sorry, Ray. Please forgive me, it was important for me to help Tony and Frank and I wanna go on with it."  


"You have me always terrified, Gee. You know I love you, don't you? You and that little pixie." He hugged me, rubbing my back with his strong hands,  


"Pixie?" I smiled for the first time since we had left my house.  


"Yeah...he reminds me of one sometimes. Frankie can be really hard to deal with, and he surely gives me some good headaches; but he's the most sweet, caring, lovable person I've ever met. Special, no doubt. Please Gerard, take care of him and yourself. I don't wanna see you two hurt again, physically or in any other way."  


"I promise I'll be careful. The pixie and I will be fine, you'll see." I nodded, sniffing. "I feel so much better now that I told you."  


"I'm glad you did, stubborn bitch."

******  


"I drank a glass of beer the second time I talked to Tony and Greg," I casually said while walking back home. Ray didn't answer, so I kept talking. "I don't know, they ordered beer and I thought that if I asked for something non alcoholic, they'd suspect. I don't want them to think anything bad of me. I know, it was stupid."  


"Very," Ray agreed. "Asking for a soda doesn't exactly tell people that you have problems with alcohol. Specially if it's just the afternoon."  


"I didn't think."  


"Did you feel tempted to have more after that?"  


"Not really..." I thought about it for some seconds. "I think I'm doing much better with that, I have many things in mind to keep myself busy."  


"I'm proud of you. I'd kill you sometimes, but I'm _still_ proud of you." He laughed.  


"Thank you..."  


Ray stopped me by the door, his voice low. "Gerard? Before we enter...since you've confessed many things already, can I ask you one last question?"   


"Of course."  


"The scratch on your face...it was Frankie, right?"  


"He told you?" I inquired, concerned that Frankie might be still feeling guilty about it.  


"No, I just didn't believe you." He smirked.  


"Frankie got angry because I assumed that he wouldn't be hungry after spending the night puking, so I didn't made him breakfast. Then I offered him a tea instead of cereal and he became rather violent. He hadn't taken his pills the night before and had been in a really bad mood. He sent a chair flying, ran away, fell, and stayed on the floor screaming, cursing and crying. I held him until he calmed down, but gained some 'war injures' in the process." I lifted my sleeve to show him the bite mark.  


"Ouch...well, guess it'll happen once in a while. You don't need to lie to me about that, I won't tell you to lock the boy up, man! Earlier today he was close to freaking out 'cause he wanted to eat again in between breakfast and lunch. I finally convinced him with an apple."  


"It seems food's the main source of conflict lately." I chuckled. "But he'll have to understand that he can't eat at all hours. If he doesn't, well...I'll use your method and give him healthier snacks at least."  


We opened the door and our four eyes rested on the two figures lying on the couch. "Bob!" both Ray and I whined.  


"What?" he mumbled with a mouth full of cookies.  


"H-hii! L-look what Bob b-bri...brought me!" Frankie showed us the huge package.  


"Did you _have_ to bring that, Bob?" I protested, sitting on the couch with them. Frankie moved to my lap and continued to stuff his mouth.  


"What's wrong with it? I knew Frankie had been sick so I didn't buy chocolate cookies as he wanted! We were waiting for you, but he was hungry so..."

"Y-yes 'cause R-Ray didn't let me h-have much with my m-milk." Frank pouted at me.

I couldn't help kissing those lips. "You taste good."  


"Eww, you d-don't! Y-you smoked, m-meanie. N-no kisses." He pushed me away disgusted.  


"What if I eat a cookie or two?" I took some and started chewing. They were good indeed.  


"M-maybe."

Bob waved to get our attention. "People, you're still not telling me what I did wrong here."   


"You brought food, Bob!" Ray told him. "And the main problem is not that Frankie has been sick. The thing is that he doesn't need to eat more than he already does. He spent the whole day eating and yet saying he was hungry. He's like...a pacman lately!"  


"N-not my f-fault that I'm h-hungry, Ray!" Frankie giggled at how he had called him.  


"Oh come on, guys! The kid's growing, needs to eat more."  


"Bob," I gave him and amused look. "Frankie might be small, but he's almost nineteen. I don't think he will grow anymore...save _horizontally_."  


"Wh-what's that m-mean?" Frank asked.  


"Now tell him, mean boyfriend!" Bob chuckled.  


"I was just joking..."  


"T-tell me!"  


"Well, I meant that even if you eat a lot you won't get taller, only...wider."  


"He meant _fatter_ ," Bob corrected.  


Frankie stared at me with hurt and did something I wouldn't have expected: he slapped me _hard_. 

My cheek was left stinging and I hadn't had time to react when I noticed Bob and Ray were laughing at me.  


"I...I don't w-wanna be t-taller, I'm j-just hungry! And I d-don't care if I'm f-fatter. If...if y-you don't like me an-anymore...F-FUCK YOU!" Frank screamed at me, grabbed the pack of cookies and left the room. "AN-AND SHUT UP EV-EVERYBODY! N-NOT FUNNY!"  


"I think you fucked up..." Bob sang.  


"Shut up, it's _your_ fault!"  


I quickly got up and followed Frankie to the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed crying and eating. As much as I felt bad for what I had said, I couldn't help grinning. This time he had shown nothing more than a very normal boyfriend reaction. He had the right to be angry at me, no one wants to hear those kind of jokes from the person they love.

"Baby...I'm sorry," I said hugging him from behind.  


He wriggled and moved farther from me. "G-go away."   


"I swear I was joking, Frankie. I love you and I think you're beautiful. Come on, you know that."  


"N-no, I d-don't know. If...if you s-said that and you w-want me to eat l-less then you d-don't like me 'c-cause I'm fat." He sobbed, lifting his hoodie and pinching his plump belly. 

I got on the floor in front of him and, taking his hand in mine, I kissed his stomach noisily. I glimpsed a smile, but he hid it right away.  


"It's not like that, not at all. What I said it's true, if you eat a lot you get fatter..."  


"S-see? Y-you said it a-again!"  


"Shh, let me finish. _That_ is true, but tell me: did I say something about not liking you anymore 'cause you were fat?" I held him in place before he could escape. 

Frankie looked at me doubtfully. "N-no you d-didn't."  


"I didn't, exactly. Because I like you _a lot_ , I'll always like you no matter what."  


"E-even if I get f-fatter?"  


"Yes, that wouldn't change anything. But you have to understand something: if we bother you about not eating so much is just because we want you to be healthy. You're so hungry because of the meds, and we'll see about changing them in the future. Right now we can't do that, so in the meantime doctor William said we should control what you eat a little more. I don't mind if you're thin or fat, I care about you being fine. And I don't want the assholes -as you call them- to have more reasons to make fun of you. Sadly, there are many idiots that laugh at people who are fat or just not as thin as them, and I'm telling you this because I used to be chubby and kids were always laughing at me," I brought back some sad memories from my childhood.  


"B-but...but y-you were so c-cute! R-really?"  


"Yes, so I know how it hurts. I know what you feel when people make fun of you. Believe me, Frankie."  


"R-ray and Bob were l-laughing," he murmured.  


"They weren't laughing at you or at my joke, Frankie. They were laughing at _me_ 'cause you slapped me hard!" I explicated. 

Frank raised his head and took off his glasses to dry his eyes with a tissue. Suddenly he put them back on and began to laugh, pointing at me. He only quit after a while because it made him cough.  


"Y-you have the...th-the mark of my f-fingers on your f-face!" he choked and laughed some more.  


"I guess I deserve this, same as I deserved the slap."  


"Y-yes, you w-were a very bad b-boy!" He nodded.

I was happy when he allowed me to embrace him. "Baby...did you understand everything I told you? I need you to."   


"Y-yes, I d-did. I d-don't want assholes l-laughing at me m-more."  


"Can I kiss you now?"  


"L-let me see..." Frankie practically attacked my mouth and I sensed his tongue asking for access. I obeyed and it explored me as he moaned contently and shifted his position to be closer. 

I let my hands travel over all his curves, telling him with more than words how much I liked everything about him. My lips felt cold when his abandoned them.  


"So...?"  


"Y-you taste so m-much better now." He smiled and gave me the pack of cookies. "T-take this so I d-don't eat more, k-kay? G-gotta wait 'till d-dinner. Y-yes, I'll try, p-promise."  


"Very well, precious! Now let's get back to the boys." I offered my hand to him.  


"Their swollen mouths are proof that he forgave him. What do you think, Ray?" I heard Bob say as soon as we stepped into the living room. 

Ray got up and inspected us close. "I agree."  


"Awww. Aren't they cute? They had a little fight and now they made up!" Bob went on.  


"Fuck you both!" I giggled, feeling my cheeks burn.  


"Awww he's blushing!" Ray cooed.  


"Stop it already, you're so fucking silly!"  


"D-don't laugh at G-gee, y-you...you...as-assholes!" Frankie failed at trying to come up with a different insult, he loved that one too much. 

His firmness worked the same, though, and our friends apologized before announcing that they had to go home. 

I had already locked the door behind them when Bob called through it. "Hey, Gee and Frankie! Listen!"  


"What the...?"  


"Awwwwwww," two voices chanted.  


******

What was to be expected happened; I got Frankie's cold. I considered myself lucky anyway, since I didn't feel as bad as he had. What's more, my stomach was perfectly fine and I didn't think it necessary to take days off work. I'd taken enough after I was shot plus one more that week to stay with Frank.  


That last night, though, I'd had trouble getting to sleep. My nose was very stuffed and I had forgotten to buy more drops. Frankie was snoring peacefully so I didn't dare bother him even if I was deadly bored and annoyed. I eventually passed out from exhaustion after hours of turning and twisting.  


When the alarm clock went off, it felt like I had just fallen asleep. Groaning, I sat up and looked around me. I froze when I saw that the other side of the bed was empty. I didn't waste time going to the bathroom and headed straight for the kitchen. 

Even with my sense of smell at half its potential, what entered my nostrils in the middle of the corridor urged me rush along it. 

The first thing I looked at was the stove. The gas had been started on all the stovetops and the blue kettle rested on one of them, but none were lighted. I was striding towards there when I spotted Frankie. He had the burner in one hand and a newspaper set on fire in the other. He held the flames close to his face, staring at them marveled while he dangerously approached the time-bomb that was the stove. All my limbs were paralyzed by fear.  


"H-hot...so b-bright and pretty..." he whispered, not taking notice of my presence. He got closer and closer, let the burner fall and touched the fire. 

That's when I detached my feet from the ground. "FRANK, NO!" I shouted and pushed him back forcefully, tearing the ignited paper off his hands and launching it to the sink. 

Frank screeched with all his strength but I didn't check on him. Trembling and coughing, I dashed to the sink and let the water run while I desperately turned all the stove's knobs off. Finally, I opened the windows and the door to the patio.  


 "Fuck..." I breathed some fresh air and tried to calm down. Then I thought of Frankie. I couldn't see him. "Oh, fuck...where's he?"

I searched the whole house calling his name. I looked in each corner, under the bed and even inside the closet, but nothing. The main door was locked and I never left the keys where he could reach them.  


Defeated and not knowing what else to do, I went back to the kitchen only to casually discover a place I hadn't inspected. There, under the table and against the wall, was a shaking Frankie. He had made himself as small as possible, his head hid in between his knees and hugging his legs. 

I crawled to reach him, but he flinched and cowered.  


"Frankie...everything's fine now, baby. Come out of there," I spoke softly, caressing his hair. He seemed to shake more when I did, frightened. "Frankie?"  


"S-sorry...d-dunno what I d-did wrong but s-sorry...d-don't...don't be m-mad. D-don't send me th-there...no sh-shots. N-no please..." he mumbled, crying and rocking his body.  


"Send you where, Frankie? I'm not mad...look at me baby, please..." I attempted to touch him and he shrieked again. 

After that he kept murmuring. "Y-you screamed and...and c-called me F-frank and p-pushed me and m-made me fall. S-scared me. I...I w-wanted to m-make breakfast. D-did nothing b-bad. N-no I didn't."  


"Oh love, I'm sorry. I...I smelled gas and saw you with fire and...got terrified. Frankie I didn't want to hurt you, I swear. I'm not mad..."  


He watched me at last with wet eyes, a little more calm. "F-fire is p-pretty, not s-scary."  


"It's dangerous, you must not get near fire, and you must definitely _not_ touch it. You understand?"  


"N-no, why? I...I l-like it. D-did nothing to m-me." He showed me his hands.  


"It didn't 'cause I took the paper from you in time. Also, you must _not_ use the stove by yourself. If you need to heat something, you ask me."  


"Wh-why? I c-can. W-was gonna d-do it but...but t-tried all of the t-tops and f-fire didn't work. Th-then tried on the p-paper and it d-did. S-so...so was g-gonna light the s-stove tops with it." He smiled proudly now, and I was too tired and felt too much like crap to be patient.  


"NO!" I yelled and Frank began to cry loudly. I regretted my outburst immediately. "Sorry, didn't mean to raise my voice. I meant...you can't light the stove like that. Even less when you have all the tops with the gas on. If I hadn't stopped you, it could all have exploded. That's why I got so scared."  


"Wh-why?" he repeated childishly.  


I hated those moments when I felt as lost as the father of a toddler. How could you explain those things to someone who had never been able to understand or recognize danger? I couldn't even comprehend myself how that was possible. Frankie was smart enough; sometimes slow yes, but he _was_ able to learn and understand explanations if you had the patience. However, nothing worked when it came to tell him why it was dangerous to do or touch some things. I had tried many times, said the same things once and again and I knew Grace had tried before. But it always led to Frank asking 'why' every ten seconds.

Sometimes it would seem like he had gotten it. Like with, for example, scissors. When hearing him tell people that he couldn't use them you'd think he understood _why_ ; while in reality, he was only repeating what we had told him. He could comment that it was dangerous to step into traffic and one second later be doing it if you didn't keep him watched. The worst thing was that this problem had nothing to do with his illness. It was related to his brain injure, so we'd have to put up with it forever.

"Just...don't do it, it's dangerous. I know you only wanted to help, that was _very_ sweet of you. But I'm happy just waking up and seeing you in the bed beside me. I don't need you to make breakfast, I love doing it for both of us. Really." I took him in my arms and rocked him slowly.  


"K-kay." He kissed my cheek. "S-sorry."  


We stayed under the table like that until Frankie said that he was hungry. Ray would have to make breakfast when he arrived, since I had still to get ready and I was late for work.

 I left the house with a headache and worried about the future, about our every-day. One morning I could fail to hear Frankie get up, and on the next occasion I might not make it in time. Yes, I could be twice as careful, yet I didn't know how to prevent some things.

******  


One more week went by. My preoccupation after what happened that morning had made me stay awake for hours every night, thinking and fearing. As a consequence of falling asleep later, I had ended up inciting that same thing I feared: Frankie had gotten up unnoticed two more times. The first one he'd just become disoriented while needing to pee and done it in a basket full of dirty clothes. The second one was a little worse. I had found him standing over the kitchen counter trying to reach what I kept hidden from him; that including the burner, scissors and knives among other things. He couldn't get any, but his heels slipped up and he would have fallen backwards if I hadn't been there to catch him.  


Even if I hated the idea and it had been my last option, I decided to lock the bedroom's door from then on. I kept the key around my neck, on a string not too long so I'd notice if Frankie went as far as to try to get it from me.  


******

That Wednesday, Goldberg had given us his approval to tell Frankie about his father. The following day after work, I had met up with Anthony and we'd both gone to the psychiatrist's office to discuss the details. Iero was very anxious and looking forward to the crucial moment, yet totally concentrated on the doctor's indications and determined to follow them.  


Ray was still unsure about this being a good thing for Frankie, but had supported me nonetheless, staying with him at home when needed.

The same mall was the location for this new meeting, the most important of them all, a day that would change Frank's life forever. I had been awfully nervous since I got up and had ran out of excuses to tell Frank every time he'd ask what was wrong. He always perceived when something was happening and had been more jumpy and disquiet too.

Tony was already there, playing with a napkin to keep himself busy. Greg hadn't come with him this time, respecting his partner's decision of facing this alone. Frankie grinned and ran to his father's arms as if he had known him forever, and again they both shivered at the contact.  


"Hi, Frankie! Not sick today?"  


"N-nope! I...I g-got Gee sick, but h-he's fine too, n-now. H-how are you, T-tony? Wh-where's Greg?" Frank kissed Anthony's cheek and sat on the chair next to him.  


"I'm very well, and so is Greg. He had some things to do with the band, that's why he couldn't come," Tony responded.  


For about an hour we just maintained a casual conversation. I could see that Anthony was struggling with his nerves. His voice failed him at moments and he blamed some runaway tears on his allergies.  


Feeling a lot better than the last time, Frankie didn't stop talking, gesturing and laughing. He even sang some tunes from TV shows and encouraged us to join him. Anthony was loving every second shared with his son, but I knew what he was thinking when he'd suddenly look somber. He feared for that happiness to come tumbling down after telling Frank the truth, and the dismay also invaded me.  


Anthony eyed me waiting for consent, and it was such a huge responsibility. The decision was in my hands, he had silently given me the power to say whether it was a good moment. I nodded, it was now or never.  


"Frankie, I...I have to tell you something. You need to pay attention, because it's very important," he began, ghostly pale. I thought he'd faint before completing the last sentence.  


"K-kay!" Frankie answered, unaware of what was coming.  


"Remember I told you that my son Frankie was two years old?"  


"Y-yep, a l-little Frankie. And...and you s-said you missed him, wh-why? H-he doesn't live w-with you, l-like Gee's dad?" Frankie's words broke Tony's fragile composure and he couldn't stop a sob. The boy looked at me worried and then back at Tony, rubbing his back. "D-don't cry, it...it's o-okay. Y-your son will l-love you th-the same if you c-can't see him too of-often 'cause...'c-cause you're nice."  


"Th-thank you, Frankie. I hope so...'cause my little Frankie is who I love the most in the word." Anthony took several deep breaths, battling to overcome what had been nothing compared to what he would have to endure.  


"Wh-where's your s-son?" Frank insisted.  


"That's what I w-wanted to talk about. First of all I kinda lied, my son's not two years old," Anthony proceeded.  


"N-no?"  


"No...I said that because he was that age the last time I saw him. Then something happened and I had to...travel," he disguised the truth.  


"Th-the baby stayed w-with his mom?"  


"Yes..."  


"T-tony...you s-said you're gay, b-but if you h-have a son th-then the mom of...of the b-baby was your g-girlfriend," Frank suddenly noted. 

This made Anthony laugh and served to ease the tension. "I...I like both boys and girls, or at least used to like girls too. I've been luckier with boys, though. Well...with one, Greg!"  


"B-boys are better, no b-boobs." Frank nodded, serious. "B-but tell me m-more 'bout your b-baby."  


"When I came back from my trip..." Tony stopped just before the part where he was forced to lie. Goldberg had agreed with us that some details of the story were too hard for Frankie to digest. "...Frank's mom had moved. She hadn't told anyone where."  


"Sh-she took the b-baby with her?"  


"Yes, she did."  


"As-asshole!" Frankie practically cried. His eyes were gathering tears and he was gripping the chair's armrests tightly. "Wh-what you did?"  


"I asked everybody, and I searched everywhere. I s-searched for years and y-years..." Anthony could barely speak now due to his uncontrollable sobs. Frank had hugged him, leaning his head on the other's shoulder, but jumped at what Iero said last.  


"Y-years? Y-you haven't s-seen your baby in y-years? Th-that...that's a l-lot! H-how many years?  


"Sixteen," the man replied, his eyes contemplating his son's. I was crying in silence, too shaken and terrified to speak.  

Frank frowned and appeared absent, pensive. "B-but...but then...h-he's not a b-baby."  


"N-no...he...he's eighteen now, almost n-nineteen," Anthony released, and it was impossible not to cry. He was crying, I was crying. 

Frankie was static, his troubled head trying to grasp all that information that sounded _too_ familiar. 

"But he'll always be my baby," the man whispered. "I've never forgotten him, I've always m-missed him with all my heart and wished I could hug him, p-play with him, see him grow. But I couldn't, I just...c-couldn't."  


"N-no shut up, n-no it's not. C-can't be, n-no. D-don't h-have one no, sh-shut up. SH-SHUT-UP!" Frank grabbed his head with both hands and shook it. What started like a whisper gradually turned into a scream and he made a ball of himself in the seat, mumbling and breathing agitatedly. 

Tony watched me desperate, not knowing if he should touch him. I raised my palm to tell him to wait. 

"Frankie...are you ok?" I asked with fake calmness.  


"I...I'll b-be if he s-stops."  


"Me?" Anthony said.  


"N-no, him...h-here." Frank hit his head. "SH-SHUT UP! Th-that's better. Y-yes, better now."  


"Sure?" Iero grazed his face with the tips of his fingers and Frank whimpered.  


"Y-yes, better. Y-you...you never s-saw your baby ag-again?"  


"Frankie...we can continue this some other day if you don't feel too well..." Tony offered.  


"N-no! T-tell me?"  


"Okay..." he sighed. "No, I never saw my kid again...until one night, just a few weeks ago. Our band was playing in a bar, here in this town. When we finished, a boy I had never seen before came talk to me. He said that he knew where my son was, that he had found Frankie and taken him to live with him. First I didn't believe him, but then he told me lots of things that convinced me. He also showed me a picture." Anthony once again met my eyes, unsure about going on with the plan. 

I felt so little, too young and immature for the situation, petrified. What if we just added a bigger trauma to Frank's life? What if he hated us all after this?  


It was too late to stop. Frank had caught the hints, he had undoubtedly thought that the coincidences were too many. He might be in denial, refusing to believe what the voice in his head was demanding him to see, but he would not leave without more data.

"Wh-what pic?"  


"The picture of a small 18 year-old boy with long, brown hair and big hazel eyes behind black-rimmed glasses." Tony smiled through the tears, while rivers of the same liquid pearls slid along Frank's cheeks. 

My boyfriend brought a hand up to his chest and I could hear his respiration. I was afraid, I wanted to run to him but couldn't, shouldn't. 

Tony said more. "H-he was sitting on a chair smiling widely, with a cute black dog on his lap. Greg s-said the boy looked a lot like me."  


Frank shook his head furiously. "N-no but...b-but...that's m-me. Th-the pic...s-sounds like me. G-gee took a p-pic of me l-like that!"  

Anthony stopped him by grabbing his face in between his hands. "Yes, it was _you_ in the picture."  


"N-no but...but I d-don't look like y-you." He wept, forcing the older man's hand off.  


I recuperated my speaking ability. "You...you do, Frankie. You and Tony are _very_ alike, I gave him that picture."  

Frankie got out of his chair and came to me, seeking for shelter. Having him now so close, I could listen to his heartbeats. He was too flurried, confused, overwhelmed. But if we had made a mistake, the damage was done.  


"I...I'm n-not _your_ F-frankie, Tony. N-no. C-can't be. I...I d-don't have a d-dad, never h-had a dad, never n-no," Frank rambled against my chest.  


"Y-you _do_ have one, baby, you do. _I_ am your dad. I swear I d-didn't leave you, Frankie. I never ab-abandoned you, I just...couldn't find you. I couldn't until Gerard f-found _me_." Tony kept talking, dying to embrace his son but refraining from because he couldn't force him.  


"Is...is t-true, Gee?" Frankie's look summarized the biggest amount of emotions I had witnessed in my life. It was too much for him, I wanted it to end but at this point I could only follow.  


"Yes, Frankie...it's true. I looked for Anthony and talked to him because I imagined that he didn't know where you were. I also wanted you to know that there was someone else out there who loved you as much as my family, my friends, and I do. Anthony is your dad, your own real dad."  


"N-no but...but no 'c-cause they never t-told me I h-had a dad and he n-never came and...h-how..."  


"Frankie please calm down, try to breathe slowly." I massaged his chest and spoke into his ear soothingly. "Everything's fine, this is something good, babe. Breathe."  


"N-no one ever told you because they didn't know about me. Your...mother left you in a place with other kids when you were little, and she didn't say that you had a dad. No one told me you were there either." Tony attended Frank's doubts as well as he could. It was also too much for him, this was breaking both their hearts.  


"Wh-why? If...if m-mom didn't w-want me why she didn't l-leave me with y-you? Wh-why she left me th-there? I...I d-don't remember her. N-no. On-only later, wh-when she t-told me to g-get off the car and...and th-then she never c-came back. AS-ASSHOLE, WHY? M-moms don't do th-that." He cried and cried in my arms. 

The three of us were a crying mess and the world around us didn't exist. The mall had vanished, the voices of the people had been switched to mute.  


"I...I don't know Frankie. I wish I could answer that, but I don't know why your mother did this to us, why she separated us if she didn't even care. But n-now I'm here, _son_. I'm here f-for you."

As soon as Anthony gave his mouth permission to form that three-lettered word, the one that had been supplicating for freedom, something clicked in Frank. He stayed quiet, seemed to loosen his grip on me and just turned to stare at Tony. His breathing was still loud, but slower.  


His father smiled, reaching out to touch him. Frank stiffened and got off me, eyes fixed on the man in front of him. I thought that the worse was over. I ventured to smile imagining a decisive hug. But my fairytale was destroyed.  


"N-NO! N-NOT AGAIN, N-NO!" Frankie shouted and ran away faster than I had ever seen him run.

Just when Anthony and I reacted, our surroundings decided to inopportunely reappear. There were too many people, too many tables, too many voices intensifying our desperation as we raced after Frank.


	55. Chapter 55

_So tired that I couldn't even sleep,_   
_so many secrets I couldn't keep._   
_Promised myself I wouldn't weep,_   
_one more promise I couldn't keep._

By the time we got to the mall's door -following what people who saw him told us- Frankie had disappeared without a trace. All the terrible possibilities of what could happen to him were roaming my head, but I didn't want to let them blur my senses.  


"Do you have a car?" I asked Tony.  


"No...fuck! The guys needed the van so I took a bus." He held his head, crying. Iero was having a harder time trying to stay calm than I.  


"Well, we better not waste any more time, let's check if that guy saw him." I pointed at a vendor on the sidewalk. 

Anthony practically jumped towards him. "Excuse me...did you see a boy come out of the mall running just a couple of minutes ago? He's short with long hair and glasses and..."  


"Black jacket with furry hood?" the man corroborated.  


"Yes!" I exclaimed.  


"He crossed the avenue here and then followed that way." He signaled the traversing street to his right. "I paid attention 'cause he just launched himself without even looking. I don't know how he made it safe."  


"Oh, fuck fuck fuck...thanks!" I screamed back as I sped behind Anthony, who had already darted into the wide sea of cars.  


"Watch out!" I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of a truck's path. "Do you wanna make your son an orphan when having _just_ found him?"  


"S-sorry..."  


"Now!" the traffic stopped and we ran as fast as our legs allowed. We only slowed down when necessary to ask a couple more people; all indicated that Frankie had continued along the same street.  


"I think that's him there!" I shouted, but the small figure was more than a block away. We quickened our pace, desperately seeing Frank make his way through another chaos of honks and insults. It wasn't easy to keep our eyes on him with so many people around us. Why had everybody chosen to go out that same day?  


"Fuck, damn people! We lost him again...now where?" Anthony cursed, looking around.  


"Calm down...I...I think I know." I supported myself on his shoulder, totally out of breath. "He's going home. I...didn't consider it first 'cause I thought he wouldn't know how to but...if you take this street to the left, it's two blocks and you're there."  


"You think...?"  


"I'm not sure, but...we should give it a try."  


Approaching the house, we heard bawling and banging. Some neighbors had come out of their houses to see what the commotion was about, and the nice lady from next door was standing in my garden attempting to calm my boyfriend down.  


"Oh, Gerard! Good that you came, I tried to get closer and ask your brother what had happened to him, but he just screamed louder and pushed me away," she filled me in. This woman, same as everyone else in my neighborhood, thought we were brothers. Anthony gave me a weird look, but then seemed to figure out the reason behind that lie. Presumably not the _real_ reason, though; or maybe even _that_ one?  


"I'll take care of Frankie now, thanks for watching him in the meantime." I nodded and smiled at my neighbor. "And sorry if he was a little rude"  


"Don't worry about that, dear, I was just worried that he'd hurt himself."  


I carefully walked to the front door which Frankie was knocking, shaking, kicking. 

He hadn't even noticed us there as he continued to cry and shout with desperation. "O-OPEN! O-OPEN NOW, G-GOTTA GET IN, G-GOTTA HIDE! O-OPEN!"  


"Frankie?" I barely touched his shoulder and he flinched, then turned around and hugged me; trembling, panting, heart racing. 

When he saw Anthony behind us, he got off me and went back to throwing his body against the door in a frenetic attempt to open it. "P-PLEASE GEE O-OPEN THE DOOR, O-OPEN THE D-DOOR OPEN TH-THE DOOR!"  


"Shh, ok." While I was turning the key into the lock, Frank kept a cautious gaze on his father. It was as if he feared that the man would do something bad and sudden.

The boy was leaning on the door, so he fell to the floor as soon as I let him into the house and crawled away, sobbing. Anthony had stayed outside, realising that _he_ was the main problem there. He looked hurt, broken, guilty. I didn't feel much better because _I_ , after all, had been the one who made it all happen. I silently told him to come in, but he didn't go far once inside, reading the fear in his son's eyes. There was nothing that he wanted more than to have Frank in his arms, but I knew he was capable of giving up being with his son if he thought it was for the best. He'd do it even if it killed him, just to avoid scarring his kid more, adding extra suffering.

I detained Frank's escape by grabbing his waist and sat there holding him.  


"N-NO...NO NO N-NO. L-LEMME GO, H-HE'S THERE! D-DON'T LET HIM T-TAKE ME AWAY G-GEE, NO P-PLEASE!" He fought me, though I had become quite skillful at restraining him by now.  


"B-but Frankie..." Anthony cried from his spot next to the door. "I...I don't want to take you anywhere, I swear!"  


"H-HE LIES! Y-YOU...YOU W-WILL! H-HE TOLD ME!"  


"Who told you?" I lost the thread of his claim.  


"H-he...here!" He hit his head. "And...and this t-time he's r-right, he kn-knows! Y-yes he kn-knows 'cause I r-remember!"  


"Frankie don't..."  


"P-PLEASE GEE, DO S-SOMETHING! W-WANNA...STAY!" Frank wouldn't stop clamoring, and he was clearly finding it hard to breath after running from the mall home. He needed to calm down and rest, but that seemed impossible to attain at the moment.  


"Frankie please, he's not gonna take you anywhere, you _are_ staying. Now stop screaming and tell me why you thought he'd do that. Tell me why you ran away..." My voice broke at the end. "You...you scared us to death, baby."

Frank coughed and looked up, gasping for air and clutching his chest. "Sh-she said..."  


"Shh...first try to relax, breath slowly. Just like this, follow me." I inhaled and exhaled in a measured, visible manner several times. 

Frankie stared and did his best to copy me, not without certain difficulty. After a while he sounded much better, although more tears were expelled as he spoke again. "Sh-she told me to g-get in the c-car but...I d-didn't want to. G-grace said that w-woman was my m-mom but...but I n-never saw her, d-didn't remember. N-no. Sh-she never went t-to see me th-there. N-never. M-moms go to s-see their k-kids. Sh-she didn't." He sniffed. 

I eyed Tony who was sitting on the floor near the opposite wall of the living room. He was a wreck.  


"What happened then?" I encouraged Frankie, feeling that he needed to talk; and I wanted to understand.  


"T-told her. I w-was mad and as-asked her why sh-she never came to v-visit me. Sh-she was p-pushing me to th-the car and...and I s-said I wanted to s-stay there. Sh-she said I c-couldn't, she c-couldn't pay an-anymore. I as-asked again and she t-told me she had b-been very busy...th-that's why she never c-came. And...and then..." 

He interrupted his narration and wept anew, louder and more anguish-filled than before. I thought it was due to the memories of what had occurred later that day coming back to him, but there was more. Something small yet huge at the same time in its significance. 

"Sh-she...she t-touched my f-face and...and said: 'b-but now I'm h-here, son', and she w-was smiling," Frankie revealed his reason for freaking out at Tony. That was the same phrase he'd heard at the mall. The same words that I knew his father had honestly and meaningfully pronounced. In his mother's case, though, they had only been a low trick to gain his confidence. A dirty deceit to lure him into the car so she could get away with her plan. It was only expectable for Frankie to not trust that doomed sentence again. "Sh-she sounded like a m-mom so I d-did what she s-said. B-but she l-lied!"  


"Fucking bitch..." Anthony hissed. "How could she be s-so cold?"  


"I...I l-liked it there, wh-where I lived. I d-did. S-some guys were as-assholes but I h-had friends and...and G-grace was like a m-mom and it was my h-home. Th-then my real m-mom took me out of th-there and l-left me in the s-street, s-said she'd be b-back but she didn't. I w-waited but she d-didn't! Th-then you found m-me and now I have a f-family and new f-friends and I have y-you and I like it h-here. An-and I love you, G-gee. I...I wanna have a d-dad but don't w-wanna leave, n-not again. P-please Gee, don't let h-him take me a-away!"  


"Frankie...look at me.You trust me, right?" I placed my hand under his chin to make him meet my eyes. 

His were unquiet and he couldn't focus, but he blinked and nodded. "Y-yes, a l-lot. L-love you."  


"Then you have to believe me. Your dad is _not_ lying, he cares about you and has always wanted to find you. We talked a lot, and I can tell you that he _truly_ loves you. Tony's not here to take you away, he's not going to do the same as your mother..." I told him what he needed to hear, although I wasn't sure myself. I didn't know what Anthony would do in the future, I was just hoping we'd find the best solution for all of us.  


"P-promise?" Frank whispered to me, whimpering and shouting to himself right after. "N-NO HE D-DOESN'T! I...I B-BELIEVE HIM!"  


"I promise, and I love you too." I didn't mind if Tony was listening, he had already heard Frank say it so we'd deal with that later. "Now let Tony get close to you, baby. I'll stay here, no one's gonna get you out of this house if you don't want to. And ignore what the voice in your head says, he knows nothing."  


"K-kay."  


Anthony didn't get up; instead he advanced on all fours. Frank's breathing rhythm increased automatically once they were face to face. Both crying, both afraid. But Iero didn't falter this time, he _couldn't_. 

He took some seconds to recompose himself, and when he spoke again his voice was clear and his tone secure. "Frankie, what Gerard said is true. I'm the happiest man in the word just 'cause I've finally found you. I don't want to separate you from Gerard or your new family, I _don't_. Please don't be afraid of me, I only want the best for you, I'll do whatever makes you happy. I'm so, so sorry for what happened with your mother, I hate her for what she did and I can't understand _why_ she did it. But I'm not like her, son; all I want is to get to know you better. Go for a walk once in a while, maybe out for lunch. Or as we talked about the other day...I could also take you to meet all the guys in the band and you'd sing and learn to play the instruments with us! Whatever you prefer. I just want to spend some time with you because I couldn't when you were younger. But we still have time, lots of time."  


"Uh...d-dunno I..."  


"Gerard can always come with us, I don't mind. I'll take Greg! Would that help you feel more comfortable?" Anthony proposed, guessing that Frankie may be afraid of going anywhere with him alone. Even though he liked Tony, the previous bad experience with his mother had marked him.  


Anthony understood, he knew it wouldn't be easy; after finding out that his supposed dead son was alive he would gladly agree to _anything_ to be close to him. Frank's happiness was first, that was indisputable.  


"Y-yes. M-maybe," Frank answered dryly, and his father looked down catching some tears with his fingertips. He still had to learn that Frank's short answers didn't always meant something bad.  


"Ok, now I'll leave so you can have some rest, you need it. We'll talk some other day." He forced a sad smile. "Gerard...a million thanks again."  


"Anthony...don't..." Before I could finish he stood and walked towards the door. 

Just then Frankie emitted a strange, pitiful sound.  


"Frankie...?"  


"T-tony!" he called him. He tried to get up but was too shaky and exhausted, so the older Iero crouched instead. "D-don't cry? I...I s-still like you. An-and it's g-good that y-you're my d-dad and not an as-asshole. Y-yes. B-but I...d-dunno. It...IT'S N-NOT THAT, SH-SHUT UP! N-NOT TALKING TO Y-YOU!" He sobbed and rubbed his face. "S-sorry he...I d-dunno what I w-want and...no. N-not now. M-maybe, not n-now."  


"Thank you, my baby. And I can wait, don't worry. Now sleep, ok?" He kissed Frank's head and departed.

******  


"Let's go, sweety. I'll help you." I made Frank get off the floor and assisted him to the couch. Any other time I would have carried him, but I was drained out of energy. 

I noticed he was limping a little and thought it was just tiredness, but as I sat him I spotted blood soaking through the denim on one of his legs. I hadn't seen it until then. "Frankie, what happened to your leg?"  


 "Uh...d-dunno. A...a c-car maybe? Y-yes, a c-car. N-NO YOU DIDN'T T-TELL ME! S-STOP! S-stop please I'm...I'm t-tired," he raved.  


"It's ok, let me see." I lifted the fabric to inspect the wound, trying not to think back to how he could have gotten himself killed in the street.  


"N-no..."  


"It's not deep, see? Just a scratch, I'll go for the peroxide." I left a quick kiss on his lips.  


When I had the injury cleaned and was cautiously sliding the clothing back down, Frank began to cry again. Together with the crying he was swaying his body back and forth, making his head collide with the backrest. 

I surrounded him tightly with my arms. "What's wrong, Frankie? Does your leg hurt?"  


"N-no, not m-much," he wailed.  


"Then why are you crying? Please, tell me so I can help you." I put my chin on top of his head and rubbed his back in circles, trying to soothe him.  


"D-dunno...I...I c-can't stop. T-tired, I'm s-so tired, Gee. And h-he won't sh-shut up. H-he's murmuring and l-laughing and N-NO!"  


"Frankie there's _no one_ in your head, just close your eyes and try to sleep." I moved his face up and kissed him. His arms hung from my neck as he kissed back, and I could taste his distress and confusion. He wanted to keep up, but the sobs emerging from the back of his throat wouldn't allow him.  


I lied down with him; all our limbs interlaced, foreheads and noses touching. Minutes went by and he wouldn't stop crying. We left another hour behind and no caress or kisses had been enough. Frankie was still trembling, his breathing was still erratic, his heartbeats too rushed and his mind restless. I didn't know what to do anymore and I was afraid his state had become dangerous for his health. 

Goldberg had told me several times that I could call his cellphone in case of an emergency, so that's what I decided to do.  


"D-don't...don't..." Frank pleaded.  


"I'm here Frankie, I'm just gonna make a call." I ran my hand through his hair as he bit his knuckles and whimpered.  


I was comforted when I heard Goldberg answer right away. "Hi, doctor, it's Gerard Way."  


"Gerard, what's wrong? You sound worried..."   


"I am, honestly. We told Frank everything today and it didn't go very well..."  


"He rejected Anthony?"  


 "Not exactly, it's long to explain. Later at home we managed to fix things up a little, but he went through too many emotions." I told Frank not to move and got up, going to the kitchen so he wouldn't hear me. "He's screamed and cried a lot, now it's been about two hours since Anthony left and I can't calm him down."  


"How serious is it?" he inquired.  


"He's not doing well at all. I'm really afraid he might have a nervous fit or worse, a heart attack!" I strained to be strong and not panic.  


"Let me think...yes, I still have an hour. I'll go there now and bring something to help him relax and sleep. He'll be fine, stay calm yourself or it'll be worse," Goldberg said.  


"O-okay, thanks!"

Frankie had tried to come after me, and was now curled up and sobbing on the floor by the living room's door. I ignored my own fatigue and brought him back to the couch.  


"P-please Gee, make it s-stop...make it s-stop. F-feel no good, no g-good," he whined.  


"I know, love. Your doctor will come now and give you something to sleep."  


"Y-yes ...sleep."  


I waited for the psychiatrist holding Frank in my lap like a baby. The few words he'd say in between sobs and hiccups made no sense, and I had to keep his hands in mine so he wouldn't hurt himself.  


"It's open!" I let Mark Goldberg know when he knocked on the door. 

He stepped in and knelt in front of us, watching Frankie with a worried expression. "We better start by giving our little friend something to help him sleep, the poor thing's exhausted," he said. "Where's the kitchen? I wanna try making him drink the sedative, so I won't stress him more."  


"The corridor to the left. There's a clean glass over the counter and a jar of juice in the fridge," I indicated him.

The doctor returned stirring the orange liquid with a spoon which he left on the coffee table. "Frankie?" he called, making him turn around.  


"W-wanna sleep...want h-him to sh-shut up. P-please..."  


"You'll feel better soon, but you have to collaborate with us and drink this." I grabbed the plastic glass from Goldberg's hand and drew it near Frank's lips. The man caught Frank's free hand before he could lift it to hit the cup.  


"N-no...don't w-wanna drink n-now..."  


"I know, but it's not much. You won't even notice anything weird in it, just orange juice," Mark encouraged my messed up boyfriend.  


Frank had a lucid moment and stared at us hopeful. "Th-this will h-help?"   


"Yes, it will," I promised him. 

Without any more words he started to drink the juice, though it was a hard task since he choked with every sip.  


"It'll kick in pretty fast," Goldberg told me once Frank finished, coughing and gasping.

Some incredibly grueling fifteen or twenty minutes later, Frank was finally relaxed and sleeping. Goldberg took the chance and gave him an injected dose of his medication too, since he wouldn't be waking up any time soon.  


Now it was my turn to cry, letting out all the despair I had been bottling up. Mark was talking to me but I couldn't listen; I didn't until I was done mourning that day's stressful, heartbreaking events. Only then I was able to tell the doctor about it all. 

"Do you think Frank will be fine once he wakes up? What if he gets like this again and..." I asked after I finished.  


"He won't," he cut me off. "He got into this state because it was all too much for him. As you said, this involved too many emotions at the same time. He couldn't process anything anymore, his brain was flooded; so it _needed_ to be completely shut off. He'll be fine in the morning, just don't press the subject, go by Frank's own times. He'll talk about it when he's ready and I'm sure he'll want to see his father again. From what you've told me they got along very well and Frank likes him. What happened today wasn't Anthony's fault, nor yours. You did things right, only that Frankie had never mentioned that detail about the last time he saw his mother. You couldn't know. It's a trauma he'll have to overcome, he'll learn to trust his father."  


"I hope so, for both of them," I uttered.  


"We'll help them." Mark patted my back. "Now I gotta go, but don't hesitate to call if needed."  


I escorted him to the door and rummaged through my nearly empty wallet.  "Thanks. How much...?" 

He just shook his head and smiled before trotting to his car.  


******  


Frankie remained deep in sleep for the rest of that day and night; he barely switched positions. When I was going to take him to the bed, I saw he had peed his pants. Nothing weird having in mind that he hadn't gone to the bathroom since we left the house that afternoon. Of course, after all the tension, the sedative and the medication had helped his body loosen. Luckily he would never know this happened, since my moving him to get rid of the wet clothes and change him into his pajamas went unnoticed.  


It was around 12 pm the next day when I woke Frankie up. "Good day, baby!" I planted a kiss on his dry lips.  


"H-hi..." He sat up confused, yawning and rubbing his swollen eyes. His knuckles were marked where he'd bitten them, and the skin of his face irritated from having been bathed in tears for hours. He scanned the room and then reached over the chair for his glasses. "G-gee...why I'm h-here?" he rasped.  


"I brought you, you had fallen asleep on the couch, remember?"  


"Y-yeah..." He meditated. "M-mark was th-here, too."  


"Yes, you weren't feeling well, so he gave you something to sleep. You never woke up until now," I informed him. He didn't reply right away, and I assumed he had just recalled the whole day.  


"O-oh...b-but then...I d-didn't have d-dinner! Th-that's why my b-belly's growling. Y-yeah. I'm h-hungry, Gee." He surprised me once again. Anyway, it was maybe better to not talk about delicate subjects so soon.  


"I imagined you'd be, that's why I brought this with me." I produced the bedtray I had been hiding. "A good breakfast for the best and prettiest boyfriend of them all."  


"Wow, th-thanks! L-like in m-movies! B-boyfriends do this in m-movies." He grinned, then something made him doubt. "B-but...I c-can have all these t-toasts?"  


"Well...I guess you'll leave some for me! But yes, since you haven't eaten since yesterday's afternoon you can have more now." I laughed.  


"Yay! Th-this toast has th-the pills?" He pointed at the one on top. I nodded and he took it shakily, making it disappear in only two bites. Suddenly, he fell back on the pillow. "S-so hungry but s-so tired. And...and little d-dizzy."  


"Let's see. Sit up again, just for some seconds." I sat behind Frankie, opening my legs to give him access and resting my back against the headboard. He leaned his on my chest and sighed. "Better now?"  


"Y-yes, you're c-comfy and w-warm."  


"You make me sound like a sofa." I tickled his neck with my nose, causing him to giggle. I had been needing to hear that beautiful sound to counteract so much crying.  


"S-sofaman!" He looked up with a pouty mouth, waiting for a kiss that he got with no delay.  


"And you're my pillowboy, you're squeezy. But we better have breakfast, 'cause it's rather lunch time already."

I managed to quickly drink my coffee while Frank ate several toasts one after another. Then I helped him with the cereal so it wouldn't end up all over the quilt. Not once did he mention anything about his father. Though smiling, he was still kind of drained and reserved; so I did as Goldberg had said and didn't touch the matter. I knew he would be thinking about Anthony even if he didn't name him and would eventually make a decision. In spite of all, I was feeling optimistic again.

After a bath and a very late lunch -during which Frank still acted like he was starving- we opted for listening to music and singing quietly. He wasn't in the mood for any more energy-demanding activity.  


The bell rang and Frankie grunted when I removed his head from my thigh to get up.  


"You won't complain anymore when you see who it is!" I forewarned after opening the door to a grinning Bob. I'd called him earlier to fill him in as he had requested, but I didn't know he would be coming. "Uh, I don't think he'll move a finger to greet you today, Bob"  


"No problem, the kid must feel really weary," he conjectured. "Did you call Ray? Say you did, 'cause the hairyman is gonna kill you, I tell you."  


"Yeah, yeah I did. I gave him a prompt resume of everything 'cause his dad was hurrying him. That's the only reason why I've not heard his 'I told you so' yet."  


Bob rolled his eyes. "What happened wasn't your fault, Gerard."   


"The psychiatrist told me the same, but I can't help thinking that I was the one who got Frankie into this."  


"Shut up, you wanted the best for him and it'll _be_ good. He just needs time. Now stop talking, I wanna see my friend." He pushed past me and got in. 

Frank was exactly as I had left him, but he straightened up on the backrest and beamed when he saw Bob. "H-hi, Superbob!"  


They high-fived. "Hello there, punk dwarf!" my friend greeted him. 

When Bob took a seat next to him, Frank threw himself into the blond's strong arms making the embrace last.  


"What's wrong, Frankie?" Even through the glasses, Bob perceived the teary shine in Frank's eyes, who was perhaps thinking about how Bob was another important person in his life that he'd never want to lose. 

The youngest shook his head and smiled. "N-nothing. I...I'm f-fine, promise. B-brought me s-something?"  


"What's Bob supposed to bring you, baby?"  


"D-dunno...some-thing?" He shrugged.  


"Well, I do have something...not sure if your boyfriend will approve."  


"Bob..."  


"What! You don't know what it is yet, Gee-man!"  


"I know _you_. It's food, right?" I hit, and noticed Bob trying to contain the laughter.  


"It...it is! Sh-show me!" Frank snatched Bob's pack and scouted it in search of goodies. "D-donuts, love th-them!"  


"Oh great, very...dietetic! Uh, Bob?" I twitted.  


"I think he needs some sugar today," Bob nonchalantly said, looking at the box instead of me. 

Frank, on the other hand, was doing the best impersonation of Shrek's Puss in Boots.  


"Ok, ok, but then sweets are cut short for the whole week," I stated mom-like.  


"K-kay...you're no f-fun, G-gerard."  


"Frankie...we talked about that, you know I just care about you."  


"I kn-know, but...but still n-no fun."

 We were devouring the donuts when the phone went off. I rushed to swallow before getting it. "Yes?"  


"Your beloved brother here. Guess you're coming this Wednesday, right?" he threw. I had to wring my brain to understand what he was talking about: his birthday. "That silence...you had forgotten, like always!"  


"Mikey, you know I have lots of things in mind. Don't take it personally, drama queen. And you could have said 'hello' first."  


" _Hello._ Happy? _"  
_

"Let's say yes."  


"So, you're coming? 6 PM. And if you can dope up your boyfriend before, even better." He just _had_ to include one of his sarcastic remarks.  


"Mikey I won't..."  


"It was _a joke_ , Gerard. For fuck's sake, relax!"  


"We'll be there, don't worry," I told him, feeling tempted to blurt out why I wasn't in the mood for jokes.  


"Is it your brother?" Bob screamed on the speaker. "Hey, Mikeyway! You could come visit me at the comic shop some day, you've never dropped by since Gerard was kicked out!"  


"Maybe because it embarrasses me to be there bearing the same last name?" Mikey shot back.  


"Fuck you," I cursed him.  


"Eww Gerard, no thanks. Tell Bob he's invited too, bye!" He hung up.  


"What did he say?" Bob questioned.  


"The three of us are invited to his little birthday party this Wednesday."  


"Y-yay! L-love birth-day parties!" Frank cheered. 


	56. Chapter 56

_If there's a tear on my face  
it makes me shiver to the bone.  
It shakes me, babe.  
It's just a heartache that got caught in my eye,  
and you know I never cry, I never cry_.

The days that followed were quiet but somewhat tense. I would have expected Frankie to be nervous, edgy, even angry. Of course, it's not that I _wanted_ him to be, but I'd have found it normal after the last happenings. Instead he was rather calm, contemplative; for moments distant. He played with his childish toys and drew a lot. Sometimes I found him sitting still, whispering to himself with eyes full of tears that he'd wipe away as soon as he saw me. When asked about what was wrong, he always said nothing was; only the voice in his head speaking things he didn't like. He never told me what 'he' said. He'd smile widely and declare he was fine now that I was there. We would kiss and caress for a while and he'd be back to his good mood.

Anyway I couldn't believe him; I knew that even if he managed to push the thoughts aside momentarily, Frank's brain was working full time. He was trying to decide what he should think, feel, do. Not once had he mentioned his father or anything about that day, and the calmness scared me. I was afraid that he would suddenly explode.  


Ray was very worried about Frankie, too. However, he had luckily been understanding this time and hadn't bitched at me. He agreed that Tony and I had proceeded well, and we couldn't have anticipated Frank's reaction. His mother was the only one to blame, not us.  


******  


Frank's quiescence disappeared that Wednesday, when I came back early from work and reminded him that we'd be going to my mom's for Mikey's birthday. At first he was a little bummed out, because Ray had to work and therefore couldn't go with us; but then his excitement returned. He ran to the bedroom and began to search the closet for clothes to wear. The jeans weren't a problem, since he only had two good pairs that fit him. He chose the tightest one and added a studded belt Bob had bought him.  


The top wasn't such and easy decision. I was ready to go and Frankie was still staring at the multiple hoodies displayed on the bed, wearing only a plain white t-shirt. It was cold, so he certainly needed something more.

My arms snaked around his waist and he leaned back. "Still undecided, love?"   


He turned around to kiss my cheek. "Y-yeah, dunno. I...I l-like many. B-but dunno wh-which one l-looks better on m-me. T-tell me?"  

Not something I could easily answer. "I don't know Frankie, I truly think all of them look good on you," I honestly said.  


"N-no but...but t-tell me!"  


"Oh, see who's here. He'll tell us!" I picked up Puppy, who seemed amused looking at two people deciding on clothes.  


"H-how he'll t-tell me?" Frankie questioned.  


"Doesn't he talk to you?"  


"Y-yes, sometimes. B-but he's not t-talking now. N-nope," he assured.  


"Let's do something, then." I placed the dog on the bed. "Puppy, tell Frankie which hoodie he should wear for Mikey's birthday. Step on the one you like the most."  


"G-gerard...he d-doesn't like c-clothes, that's wh-why he's always n-naked," Frank pointed out rolling his eyes.  


"What's the problem? They're not for _him_! What looks better on Frankie, Puppy? Come on, your little owner's acting like a girl and it's late."  


He punched my arm. "Sh-shut up, meanie. I...I'm not ac-acting like a g-girl!"   


"Shh, let Puppy decide." I chuckled.  


The small black dog walked along the line of clothes without touching them, as if he was really pondering. Finally, he jumped on to a red hoodie and lied down on it.  


"There you are, now put that on or we'll arrive when half of the food's been eaten," I teased Frank. 

He froze, eyes big at the realization. "N-no!" He quickly deposited Puppy on the pillow and finished getting dressed with the red garment. 

I couldn't help grinning while I watched him emerge from it; the hood falling on his head, messy hair framing his face.  


"Let's go, Red Riding Hood, we still have to go for Bob." I grabbed his hand.  


"No, wait!" He stopped dead.  


"What now, baby?"  


"Y-you have to b-brush my hair!" he requested. "It...it's all...uh...w-wavy and...and eww."  


"Frankie...your hair _is_ wavy, and you never want to brush it, that's why I didn't offer. You'll be among known people so it won't scare them."  


"D-don't care, want it b-brushed. W-wanna look g-good 'cause...'cause it's a b-birth-day and you _h-have_ to look good on b-birthdays. Y-yes. An-and you m-make my hair l-less wavy," he spoke stubbornly, hands on his hips.  


"Ok..." I gave in and went for the brush, grooming Frank's hair vigorously and combing it nicely to one side. 

He looked in the mirror and smiled approvingly.  


"Can we go now?" I asked, fearing that he'd come up with another last moment requirement.  


"Y-yes, I'll g-go for the p-presents!" He clapped his hands joyfully. It was good to see him so thrilled about something. "Y-you think M-mikey will like th-them?"  


"He'll like yours for sure, you'll see." I helped Frank zip his jacket, then I addressed Puppy before leaving. "You be a good boy...and also a good guard dog!"  


"H-he's just a b-baby, Gee!" Frankie giggled as we walked to the car.  


******  


As, usual, Alicia attacked first. Always the same caged-up fangirl that would jump on Frankie as soon as the door was opened.  


"Awwww! He's a little Eskimo!" she squealed really loud. I drew my attention to Bob -who was behind me- and his face was priceless.  


Mikey appeared and gave the blond one a hug. "Maybe you wanna try convincing my girlfriend that Frankie's not a doggie or a plushie? We've all failed so far."   


"Shut up, Mikey. Frankie's the cutest thing ever, I can't help it," Alicia scolded him.  


"Happy birthday to you, disappeared one!" Bob greeted my brother.  


"I know, I know. I've been missing in action, but I wasn't joking when I said I'm ashamed of showing my face there."  


"Mikey...won't you ever let that go? You don't work there, no one will mind whose brother you are." I huffed. "And happy birthday!"  


"Thanks, bro."  


"Awww look at you! You just get more and more adorable and pinchable!" The three of us looked in Alicia's direction. Frankie had taken off his jacket, and she was making him turn around to show her what he was wearing. "You look great in red, and your hair's all soft and shiny! And those are new pants, aren't they?"  


"Yep! G-gee bought me two 'c-cause...'cause I'm f-fat and none f-fitted anymore." Frank laughed.  


"You're not fat, you just have more to hug. I'm sure Gerard doesn't complain." She winked at me.  


"I...I'm t-trying to eat l-less. Y-yeah, 'cause the d-doctor said. B-but I'm h-hungry, always! R-really!"

"Is my mean son not feeding you well?" My mother entered the room and was ran into by Frankie.  


"S-sometimes," he affirmed, attached to her. He always got very clingy with my mother and she obviously enjoyed it, knowing how much the boy needed some motherly love.  


"Mom, don't support his cause, you know..."  


"I was joking Gerard, I know you're taking care of him. Come here, I want a triple hug," she invited me. "How are you, honey?"  


"Fine, but I've missed you."  


"M-me too!" Frankie said.  


"Aww, my two children! And you too, Mikey! Come over here and stop pouting, birthday boy!"  


"I'm _not_ pouting!" he asserted.  


"Yes you are, you're oh so jealous!" Alicia pushed him towards us and he reluctantly joined the collective embrace.  


"That's better," mom cooed. It felt as if we were baby chicks under their mother's wing, and it was a great, warm feeling.  


"Isn't the family image lovely, Bob?" I could imagine Alicia's dreamy eyes without seeing her.  


"Totally, I think I'll join you with the aww-ing."  


"Oh...th-the presents!" Frankie screamed all of a sudden. "G-gotta give M-mikey the presents, G-gee!"  


"Go ahead, the bag's on that chair," I pointed.  


"C-can I give him m-mine first?"  


"Of course, it's more important than mine." I nodded, Frank's face lighting up even more.  


He took a rectangular, thin package out of the bag. It was wrapped in a shiny purple envelope with multicolored stars that he had chosen from the store I worked at. On one of the edges, there was an orange bow with a little note reading 'Mikey' in golden ink.  


"H-happy birthday, M-mikey." Frank smiled sweetly at my brother and urged him to lower his face so he could kiss his cheek. There was something different in Mikey's semblance as he observed the sloppy handwriting and complied to Frank's wish. "O-open it!"  


"Let see..." Mikey placed the present on the table and unwrapped it carefully. He retrieved a cardboard and lifted it in an angle that only allowed him to see it. His eyes moved through it rapidly and he gasped, one hand covering his mouth. "Oh...God..."

Everybody in the room got closer to behold Frank's creation, which I had witnessed the making of. He had gotten started on the idea the moment he knew of Mikey's birthday, once again refusing to buy something. He told me they'd always make their own presents at the institution, since none of them had money or the possibility to go out whenever they wanted.

For hours he had practiced until he managed to upgrade his stick figures to something that he could add more details to. Only then he began the drawing. He'd stop every time the shaking of his hands menaced to interfere with his work, because he wanted the traces to be as clean as possible. He had chosen the colors meticulously, often asking for my opinion. He had colored it all neatly, getting off the lines only a couple of times in which cases he would tell me to erase it with a rubber.  


It had taken him more than three days to finish, and he always employed the same dedication on it; even when I knew his head had been busy with thoughts of his father. The result was amazing, the best I had seen him draw. Childish, but incredibly colorful and detailed.  


It mainly showed Mikey and Alicia hand in hand with a heart in between them. Their hair color was very accurate and Frankie had put special attention to clothes and accessories. He had drawn the studs on their jeans with a silver pencil, mixed colors to make the fabrics more similar to the real things, and included buttons, zippers, and seams. When in doubt, he'd look at his own clothes to copy from. He hadn't forgotten shoe laces, watches, Alicia's bracelets and Mikey's glasses. Both of them were smiling, and Frankie had consulted me about their eyes -which were big and surrounded by large eyelashes- to be sure he'd use the right tones.  


Those penciled Alicia and Mikey dolls actually looked _a lot_ like them. Behind the couple, Frank had drawn the house and the garden full of flowers like it had been the first time he saw it. Cotton looking clouds and a huge smiling sun in a clear blue sky -as it was his trademark- completed the piece of art.  


Not a single spot on the paper had been left free, except for a thin line at the base of it. There, Frankie had written his dedicatory in small and unsure block letters -he didn't know how to write in cursive- with the same golden ink from the note.  


_''_ _The best of birthdays to my grumpy brother of the heart Mikey. With lots of love, Frankie.'_  


The drawing was glued to a cardboard and on the back, together with a little hook, it read something more: _'I promise to be good and stay quiet so I won't get you mad on your birthday.'_

"Awww it's so beautiful!" was Alicia's felt comment.  


"You're so talented, Frankie!" my mom congratulated him.  


"Wow, kid! This is great! And it's obvious what your boyfriend's job is, uh? You've got tons of materials for sure!" Bob ruffled Frank's hair.  


"Frankie worked a lot on it, he wanted it to be perfect," I informed them. My brother wasn't saying anything.  


Frank pointed at the drawing. "I...I t-told Gee all I w-wanted to write and...and he w-wrote it for me in an-another paper and I c-copied it. I d-dunno the right letters s-sometimes, and I d-didn't want it to h-have mistakes like wh-when I wrote Al's n-name wrong."  

Mikey was still holding it, his eyes fixed on it. He sniffed slightly and scratched his head nervously, handing the gift to his girlfriend. "I...I'll be right back. I gotta..." He ran out of the room.  


"Come back here, Michael! I know what's up with you!" my mother called and went after him.

"H-he...he d-didn't like my p-present?" Frank eyed me sadly, on the verge of tears.  


"Yes he did, Frankie. I think he just needed to pee badly," I lied. I knew something else was happening to my brother, and I had an idea of what it could be.  


"Mikey's dumb like that, sweety," Alicia calmed him. "He's not good at telling what he feels, but I'm sure he loved it."  


"D-dunno...I th-think he h-hated it..."  


"Not at all! Look what I have here!" my mother announced. 

She was pushing an embarrassed Mikey back into the dining room. He had his glasses in a hand and his face was stained with the tears that were still falling from his eyes much to his dismay. My brother hated to show his emotions in front of others. I didn't understand why. I had always been one for crying when I'd feel like, and so was my mother. My father, on the other hand, was more like Mikey; so maybe it was something genetic. We, their family, knew that deep inside they were sensitive; but they tried not to make it public. Frankie had evidently destroyed Mikey's strong defense.  


"Oh my God! Frankie made you cry, he did it!" I celebrated jumping and applauding. I probably looked camp, but I didn't give a fuck.  


"Shut it, fruit!" he gnarled.  


"I...I m-made Mikey c-cry? N-no! I d-didn't want to I s-swear!" Now my boyfriend was crying too. "S-sorry, Mikey. I kn-know the p-present is very s-silly but...b-but I don't h-have money and if...if I ask G-gee for money then it's n-not _my_ p-present..." he reasoned. "G-gerard bought you a p-pretty t-shirt and..."  


"He's not crying because he didn't like it, love!" I said.  


"Y-YES HE IS!"  


"No...Frankie, I..." Mikey babbled.  


"Come on, stop pretending. You're not that tough!" Mom was getting angry.  


"Mikey, you better tell Frankie or I'll rip your..."  


"Ok, ok Al! It's not easy for me!" he sobbed. My brother was openly _sobbing_. He walked to Frank, put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Frankie, the truth is...I _loved_ your present. N-no one has ever given me something so sweet and with so much work behind. I...I love it."  


"R-really?"  


"Yes...it means more than any other present I could receive." He glanced at us. "Sorry, people."  


"No hard feelings!" Bob raised his package containing a humble CD.  


Mikey stayed as he was, paralyzed. He kept staring at Frankie and sobbed again, louder. The scene had us all agape, and I heard my mother's sniffles as I dried my own tears.  


"Thank you so much, Frankie," Mikey continued with trembling voice. "And you don't have to be quiet for me, just be yourself, ok? You're fine as you are, I'm the one who's too grumpy. I can't promise I won't complain ever again, but I want you to know something..."  


"Wh-what?"  


"That I..." He doubted, as if what he had to say was something that went against his nature. "I _do_ love you, short thing."  


"Y-you do? B-but..but I d-don't annoy you?" Frank asked innocently.  


"Sometimes, but so does Gerard. I think it's a normal thing among brothers, and you're my 'brother of the heart', right?" he quoted with his fingers.  


"Yes!" Frankie shouted and jump into Mikey's arms, almost making him fall. 

My brother stood with his arms hanging limp at the sides of his body, looking at the crown of Frank's head who wouldn't release his waist.  


"Mikey...I'll cause you pain!" Alicia whispered through her teeth.

In a slow, insecure motion, Mikey raised his arms and encircled Frank's back. The younger one peeped up and grinned, automatically making the other's lips curve up before he leaned down to kiss Frankie's cheek.  


"See, Mikey? We're all still alive! Told you that displays of affection can't bring the end of the world," I mocked him.  


"How many times do I have to tell all of you to shut up?" he retorted, letting go of Frankie.  


"We won't, darling, so don't waste your time." Alicia surprised him with a deep, heated kiss. "But I think I love you more now."  


"Oh...don't join them, you two!" Bob pleaded when seeing the look Frankie was giving me. "Have mercy of poor lonely Bob!"  


"Maybe you and Ray should jump into our wagon..." I suggested.  


"Uh, no...I'll keep on searching for someone less...hairy."

"I'll bring the rest of the food soon, I'm a little delayed. Frankie, you can have these little sausages in the meantime." My mother handed him the plate and some toothpicks.  


He pinched one right away. "Th-thanks!"    


"Why only him?" Mikey protested.  


"Because he has to take his meds now and needs to eat something with them," she responded. "Gerard, give me the pills. I have some pate snacks where I can sneak them into."  


"Here." I gave her a tiny container with the exact dose inside. "And you Frankie...don't mind Mikey. You know he gets jealous too easily."  


"Why don't you g..." A ring cut off my brother's speech. "You've been saved by the phone."  


"Oh, good. I was terrified!" I faked a chill.  


"You should!" Mikey shouted from the other side of the room, picking up the headset. His smirking face changed as he asked who it was. Now it was more like the smile of a little child. "Dad!" he exclaimed, and it all made sense. 

Mikey had been the most affected when our father left. He was still pretty young, after all. Like the tough boy he was -or wanted us to think he was- he had always played it cool and said he was okay with seeing dad only a few times a year. But I knew he missed him a lot, I knew he'd love to have him close and be able to talk to him when needed; in person, not through the phone. That's all he had at the moment, though. 

"Thanks! Yeah, I'm fine, we're all fine here. Yeah, of course she's here too I...nah, I don't know. I don't think it's time yet, dad." He continued to converse and laugh with him until he suddenly spotted me, looking at him and surely grinning in a goofy way.  


"Hey dad, I know you're usually short of time, so I better let you talk to Gerard for a while...yes? Uh? What!? Are you serious?" His eyes went so big that I thought they would pop out. "But...how? Ok, bye."  


"What was that?" I asked.  


"Dad's coming, now. Said he didn't tell us anything earlier because there was some trouble with the flights and he wasn't sure if he'd make it in time or at which hour," he replied monotonously, still in shock.  


"When is he coming?"  


"Now, Gerard. With now I meant... _now_. He wanted to surprise us, but then thought: 'what if they went out to celebrate?'. He'll be here in forty minutes to one hour, as much."  


"Oh wow, I didn't expect that!"  


Donna reappeared with more dishes and an incredulous expression. "Did I hear well? Donald's coming...now?"    


Frankie tapped my shoulder. "Y-your dad's c-coming?"   


"Yes, he is!"  


"C-cool, I wanna m-meet him. I b-bet he's cool l-like..."  


"Oh, fuck!" I practically crushed Frank against my chest to stop him from mentioning his father. I had told him not to, but he hadn't paid much attention and was also prone to get lost in the moment. "Mom, Mikey! We need to think of what we'll tell dad about Frankie!"  


"You're right, I hadn't thought about it. Well, couldn't we tell him the truth?" Mikey proposed. "I mean, everything but the 'oh and by the way, dad: your son Gerard's a queer and Frankie's his boyfriend' part."  


"Wh-what's a qu-queer?" Frankie questioned.  


"A...not very nice way to call gay people, Mikey just loves to piss me off," I quickly answered Frank before looking back at my brother. "Uh...I'm not sure that's the best thing to do, Mikes."  


"I'm with Gerard. I don't think it's a good idea to tell Donald that Gerard's the one taking care of Frankie. Not today at least," my mom added.  


"Why? It's something good..." Bob opined.  


"I think she means that it's not a good idea to tell him _now_ , being Mikey's birthday. Is it that, Donna?" Alicia guessed.  


"Yes, it is. I don't know how he'd react. Months ago Gerard asked him for money to start all over again after he admitted to having screwed up. I don't think Donald will exactly approve this huge responsibility Gerard's assumed. I'm not saying he'll think it wrong, just that he'd have several things to tell Gerard. It might provoke some arguing, and no one wants that for a birthday party."  


"Exactly, " I agreed. "You might be an assholish prick, but you're still my brother and I don't want to ruin your night."  


"Oh thanks, bitch!" Mikey retorted.  


"Boys...enough!" mom grunted. "Are you ever gonna grow up?"  


"I could help them with some strategic punishments." Alicia smiled sweetly. "Men... You're the only one I'd never want to kick, Frankie!"  


"M-my army w-would not let y-you, anyway! I...I kn-know they're not r-real...I d-do! B-but...maybe, well d-dunno but I'll b-be good 'cause d-don't wanna be k-kicked," Frank rambled. He seemed to be slightly absent again.  


"Hey...what about me, Alicia? I haven't done anything wrong!" Bob pointed out.  


"True, so far..."

"Well, people, what do we tell dad if not the truth?" I consulted them.  


"I say we tell him only _half_ of the truth," mom thought aloud.  


"What do you mean?"

She exposed her idea, and all of us concurred that it was the best option. What's more, it wouldn't make my dad that angry once I told him the real version -which I intended to do before he went back home- since it wasn't that different from this alternative one.

After that, we did our best to explain everything to Frank; the reason why we couldn't tell my dad the truth about him yet, and what we'd say instead. It wasn't easy, since all the food was on the table and he was rather busy choosing what to eat next. But, after some insistence and several questions from his side, he finally said it was okay.

 Frankie didn't speak a single word from then on, he just ate in silence. Mikey joked with him, repeating that he had meant it when he said he didn't mind him being noisy. However, I knew Mikey had nothing to do with Frankie's quietude. The talk about our father had probably brought all the confusion and fear back. It had to be it, otherwise not even food would keep him from talking our socks off when having the whole family around.

******  


There was a knock on the door and Mikey and I ran towards it excitedly. Nonetheless, once we had our father in front of us, we proceeded to act very differently. No one would have thought that we hadn't seen each other in months. That's how it always was every time he'd come; like a custom, a wordless agreement. I was sure it had started with us not wanting our father to feel guilty for moving so far away. We knew the opportunity that had brought him to make the decision wasn't one to be declined. My brother and I believed that if we were too effusive when seeing him, he would realise how much we missed him and feel like shit. Therefore, we always greeted him casually, as if we had been together only the day before.  


Our father had learned to do the same. Maybe because he had gotten the hint and thought it better for everybody, maybe because he just liked to play tough -same as Mikey.

Those moments were always weird, full of contained emotion; but we were three fools and wouldn't give up our acting. Our mother hated our stupidity.

So once again the reunion was happy, yet measured. Warm smiles, some pats on each other's backs, a 'happy birthday' for Mikey, the regular obligated questions and the usual hair comments -because dad had never appreciated our hairstyles much. Lastly he addressed our friends and Alicia, acting friendly and polite.

That being said, this night proved to be special. It must have been something in the air, or the way the wind blew; who knows? The fact is that it had one more surprise saved for us.

We were still standing next to the door speaking about random things, when I noticed that our father wasn't really participating. He wasn't talking, only contemplating us with smiling, watery eyes.  


"Dad...?"  


"Oh, to hell with it!" he exclaimed abruptly. "Come here you two, so I can give you a proper hug!"

We didn't waste time and dived into our father's short but robust open arms. Mine and Mikey's met and interlaced as the oldest Way pressed us closer to his chest, kissing our heads and then our cheeks. It felt so good to break the tradition.

"You don't have an idea how much I've missed you. It's...so hard sometimes. I suddenly couldn't stand it anymore, I had to see my sons so I left everything in other people's hands. I didn't care if they'd like it or not, I just _had_ to come, I couldn't wait until Christmas break!"  


"We d-do have an idea dad, we do..." Mikey murmured, sobbing for the second time that night.  


"We've missed you a lot, too. We understand that things must be this way, we're grown ups now and would never reproach you anything. But that doesn't stop us from missing you terribly and always wishing for an extra visit," I also cried. "And again, I'm so so sorry about the last time you saw me...I imagine that wasn't exactly what you'd expected me to go see you for, I..."  


"Gerard," he looked down at me and sealed my lips with his index finger. "that's in the past, we've talked about it over the phone. You did what you promised me, you picked yourself up, so no need to apologize. You didn't fail me, son, I'm actually proud of you."  


"Thank you. I love you, dad."  


"I love you too, you fool! Both of you! But now no more tears, isn't this a birthday party?" He let us go though we remained clung to him a little longer, all of us smiling.  


"Yeah, kinda. They always insist on it...what to do?" Mikey rolled his eyes dramatically. 

Our father took some distance and stared at him, shaking his head. "I can't believe my little Mikey's 20!"  


"Neither can I, I'm old! Mom must think the same, 'cause she got herself a new youngest child," he pointed to the dinning room. "Come meet him."

Once there, my father curiously approached the table near which Frankie was crying softly on my mother's lap.  


Mom smiled. "Hello, Donald." Their relationship was good. Sure, they had their fights once in a while over the phone, but they weren't those kind of ex-spouses who couldn't see each other after the divorce. "I'm glad you three finally stopped that bullshit and accepted that you miss each other. This little buddy here was spying the scene and started crying, he's too sensitive."  


"But...who is he, exactly?" dad wondered. "Mikey said you had a new younger son, what...?"  


"That's right! Donald...this is Frankie, my youngest kid. Frankie...this is Donald, Gerard and Mikey's dad," mom introduced them.  


"H-hi, Donald!" Frankie dried his tears and grinned, extending his small hand.


	57. Chapter 57

_Don't wanna wait 'til tomorrow,  
why put it off another day?  
One by one, little problems  
build up, and stand in our way._

"Pleased to meet you, Frankie." Dad shook his hand, then looked at mom perplexed. "You adopted a...what? 15 year-old boy?"  


"N-no, I'm _ei-eighteen,_ " Frank corrected. "G-gonna be nineteen on H-halloween!"  


"Oh...sorry, you're a bigger boy than I thought! And let me tell you that you have the best birthday ever."  


"Y-yes!"  


"Donna, all the more I need to ask...how...?"  


"I haven't exactly _adopted_ him yet, it's what I intend to do. So far we've been trying to find out something about him," she told him calmly.  


"I know it'll sound bad 'cause we're talking about a human being but...where did you get him from?" my father questioned us.  


"Uh...remember when I went to see you? On my way back I found Frankie in the street. I couldn't leave him there alone, so I brought him home," I recalled.  


"M-my mom left m-me. D-didn't want me 'c-cause I'm special," Frankie mumbled, huddling even closer to my mother. 

Dad watched him compassionately. "Are you sure no one's searching for him?"  


"Yes I'm sure, Donald. Didn't you hear what Frankie said? And as I told you, we _did_ investigate about him. I'll do things legally as soon as I can, but I don't want him to end up in a shitty public institution, you know?" mom got more into character.  


"N-no...don't w-want to. P-please..." Frankie sniffed, not quite understanding it was all part of an act.  


I kissed his temple. "Shh Frankie, don't worry, you're staying with us." 

"Don't get me wrong, Donna. What you did is _admirable_ , but you could get in real trouble for keeping this boy. Although I don't have knowledge of his condition, I gather he can't be in charge of himself in spite of being 18. Legally, a court should decide on him."  


"NO!" I heartily reacted to my father's words.  


"Donald please, I don't want to talk about it with Frankie present. And Gerard...calm down, your father was just saying how these things usually work, and he's right. But you know I wouldn't expose Frankie to that." She took my hand and spoke to her ex-husband again. "Gerard and Frankie grew very fond of each other."  


"I see...I'm so happy that you've changed this much for good, son. Now that I met Frankie, I think he might have helped a little. So," he murmured in my ear. "what does the kid have exactly?"  


"Oh, no need to make it secret, Frankie knows. He has schizophrenia and mild brain damage. Lived in a mental institution most of his life," I informed him.  


"M-means my b-brain's ill and...and l-little broken." Frank nodded. "B-but I take m-meds for the ill-illness."  


"Thanks for the explanation, Frankie, those words sounded too complicated! You look fine to me though, so the meds must be good." Dad ran a hand through Frank's hair. I felt blessed that my father was a kind, merciful person despite his harsh appearance. "Donna...how do you pay for the medication? I know they're expensive, and I don't think you can get them for free without giving away the boy's identity. Not that I know much about that subject, I'm an architect, not a man of law, but..."  


"Well..." she doubted and I realised we hadn't thought of that part. "...we all collaborate with it, even Gerard's friends. They also help with taking care of Frankie sometimes."  


My father grabbed his head and chuckled. "You're _all_ nuts. You know that, right?" 

Mikey, who had been listening to us, gave his witty opinion. "They are! I'm always telling them, but then they say I'm grumpy."   


"Y-you _are_ grumpy. Y-yes!" Frank giggled.  


"Oh, yeah? And you _are_ a dwarf!"  


"N-no I'm not, I...I'm just s-small, asshole!"  


"Leave Frankie alone, broomstick, or I'll tell your girlfriend to give you the promised punishment." I messed up Mikey's hair with both hands, which he hated me doing. I didn't know what the problem was, that thing on his head always looked like a bird nest without my assistance.  


"You leave my fucking hair alone, effeminate!" He shoved me off.  


Frankie left my mom's lap and stood in between me and Mikey, reprimanding him with a raised finger.  "D-don't push G-gee or...or I'll t-tell Puppy to b-bite your ass to d-death!"   


"What the...?" I heard our father say.  


"Siblings." Mom shrugged.

Finally, we all had our very late dinner in peace. Previous to this, Mikey had made a bet with Alicia over whether Frankie would steal our father's heart too. Mikey had said that dad was too serious, and even if he would surely like Frankie -because he wasn't an insensible person- he'd restrain himself from paying the boy too much attention. Alicia, on the other hand, had been certain that not even the older 'tough guy' from the Ways would be able to resist Frankie's sweetness.

At first, Mikey was the assumed winner. Our dad kept talking to us and Bob, apparently disregarding the youngest member of the table who was being entertained by our mother and Alicia. That changed when Frankie randomly asked dad if he had ever seen a Martian vine. He seemed lost with the question, but I guessed the awkwardness had more to do with the boy's speech impediment. My dad had never been a very patient person.  


He voiced a short reply, presumably thinking that Frankie would get bored and ask someone else; but my boyfriend had other plans and proceeded to describe the plant animatedly, not giving dad the chance to ignore him. My father visibly softened and relaxed, and soon we observed the two strike up the most absurd conversations with enviable naturalness.  


"In your face, Mikey Way, in your face!" Alicia screamed to my brother. "I win!"  


"Hush, woman! I know. Are you high on Coca Cola?"  


"Maybe! But still...I won and you lost!" She smirked. Those two were far too amusing.  


"I guess I'm the only remaining macho in the Way family..." he uttered, causing a laugher explosion around him.  


"Excuuuse me, bro? Did you hit your head and go amnesic? You cried twice tonight. Not once... _twice_! One of those due to having been conquered by Frankie's charm." I pinched his cheeks. 

He made a guttural sound. "Fuck off."  


"Later, but now I wanna hear what Alicia has prepared for you after her _epic_ win."  


Frankie overheard us and got intrigued. "Wh-what she won?"   


"This is adult stuff, kid, go back to your own conversation," Mikey told him with a patronizing smile.  


"F-fuck you!" Frank stuck out his tongue and turned away.  


"Don't worry, Frankie, I think Alicia's about to punish him." I laughed. "So...what's the punishment?"  


"I haven't really thought of anything, losing is enough for Mikey, he hates it! But," she glanced at him with malice. "boyfriend of mine, I dare you to not complain about anything and to not insult or treat anyone bad for the rest of the night. You fail, I leave and you don't see my face -or any other part of me- for a week."  


"What? That's not fair!" Mikey claimed.  


"You're already complaining! I'm gonna let that one pass, but from now on I wanna see _nice_ Mikey." Alicia made clear.  


And Mikey obeyed. He smiled sincerely, talked cordially and even laughed with me and Frankie. He didn't have to fake it, just allow his inner self to show without that wall he insisted on setting up.  


At a point, after dessert, I noticed Frankie staring at me intensely. I knew that look too much, so I tried hard to avoid it; but every time I succumbed he'd flash me a seductive smile. Bob had seen my struggle and was having fun with it. 

Frank eventually stopped trying and sat pouting. "G-gee..." He patted my shoulder.  


"Yes?"  


"I...I g-gotta pee," he said timidly. He hadn't been peeing in wrong places lately, mostly because he'd finally learned to let us know when he needed to go.  


"Let's not wait, then." We both got up. "Excuse us, family, nature calls."  


"W-we'll be back," he added.  


Frankie grabbed my hand as soon as we left the dining room and didn't let go when we reached the bathroom. He pulled me inside with him instead.  


"Frankie...didn't you need to pee?" I asked surprised.  


"Y-yes but...but not th-that much, l-later," he answered indifferently.  


"Then what..." I couldn't finish. Frank's lips crashed against mine as the bathroom's door closed under my weight.  


"I...I n-needed to k-kiss you." He grinned and pecked my lips one more time. "An-and couldn't th-there 'cause you...you t-told me your d-dad can't know w-we're boyfriends yet."  


"Ahh, I see! Well, that was a great surprise kiss, baby." I laughed.  


"L-liked it?"  


"I _loved_ it. Now you better pee so we can go back, or someone will come looking for us," I suggested, but Frank wanted more. He'd ingested too much sugar. "Frankie, if we go on they'll notice. Remember how Bob and Ray knew we'd been kissing? It's also late..."  


"Oh...y-yeah, kay." He sighed disappointed, walking to the toilet while he unzipped his jeans.

******  


"Well, we're leaving, else I won't get any sleep," I announced.  


My father took a look at the clock on the wall. "I should be going too..."   


"Why? Where are you staying?"  


"A hotel, I guess. I'll be in town for two more days."  


"That's not necessary. You stay here in my old room, I'm sure mom won't mind."  


"Yeah dad, you don't have to pay for a hotel," Mikey opined.  


"But...isn't _Frankie_ in Gerard's old room?"  


"Uh...well yeah, but there's still the couch," mom noted, faltering.  


"Frankie's coming with me, remember mom?" I winked at her.  


She hit her forehead. "Oh, you're right. I start forgetting things at the end of the day, sorry." 

"He can stay until dad leaves, it won't be a problem," I assured, hearing Mikey and Bob's snickers at my back.  


"Don't you have to work, son?" my father doubted.

"Yes, but Ray takes care of Frankie. When he can't, my boss lets me bring the boy with me and she watches over him." I explained. "Right, Frankie?"  


"Y-yes. S-sarah's cool and...and R-ray's very nice. H-he's my un-uncle Ray," he commented happily, though a little drowsily. It was too late and it was a miracle that he was still awake.  


"Ok then, if the kid's alright with it I'm taking his bed."  


"Y-yes, you c-can have it, D-donald," Frank assented.  


"You're a great boy, Frankie. It's easy to see why everybody here loves you so much."  


Parting wasn't easy and it specifically wasn't _quick_. Alicia wouldn't let go of Frankie; kissing, squeezing and telling him how pretty, sweet, and cute he was. Frankie loved that treatment, so no way he would try to get away. Mikey ended up forcing her to loosen her grip and pushing Frank towards me.  


When it was my father's turn, somehow a simple 'good night' turned into an argument about whether elephants were dangerous. It seemed the visit to the zoo and the talk with the elephants' keeper hadn't been enough to totally terminate Frank's fears. He insisted that there could be free elephants on the streets and _those_ were the bad ones. I had to stop the debate. A sleepy Frankie wasn't the friendliest person to argue with, and he'd already begun to raise his voice.  


"Enough, Frankie, no need to get angry," I warned him.  


"B-but...but he d-doesn't understand!"  


"I do, I just want you to know that you won't find elephants on the street," my father explicated gently.  


"Y-yes you can," Frank spat, lying his head on my chest with an annoyed groan. "H-head hurts."  


"He needs sleep, he's usually in bed much earlier," I told dad, who then just kissed Frank's forehead.  


"See you both tomorrow, I'll be there around 5." 

That made me gulp loudly. I'd have to tell him the truth and still wasn't sure if I could tell him _everything_.  


Mikey was reluctant to even get close to Frank after seeing how moody the lack of sleep made him. He shouted a 'bye, Frankie' while cunningly slipping out of the room.  


"Where the fuck do you think you're going, Michael Way?" his girlfriend queried.  


"Uh...bathroom?"  


"You don't fool me, love. Here. Now," she commanded firmly, yet with a honeyed tone.  


"What?!"  


"The night's not over yet, and you lost a bet. _Nice_ Mikey, remember?"  


"Yes but..."  


"Nice Mikey should say goodbye to Frankie properly," she sang. "You know? Mom would _love_ me to stay home the whole week to help her out, she's always saying I spend too much time with you..."  


"But..." Mikey wouldn't comply and Alicia waved at him. By then, we were all watching them as if they were part of a TV show. The girl was close to becoming my idol. "Al...I could be nice Mikey, but he's not exactly _nice_ Frankie right now!"  


"Bullshit, excuses." She picked at her nails. "Frankie won't bite you or kick your balls if you're nice. I might, thought, if you're _not_."  


"Why am I with you again?"  


"Because you love me, duh!" She threw him a kiss.  


My brother clumsily made his way to us, looking down and fidgeting with his sleeves.  


"Wh-what's wrong, M-mikey?" Frank asked. "I w-won't hit you, p-promise!"  


"Nothing, I know, I just...wanted to thank you for the drawing. I'm gonna hang it in my room because it's too good not to."  


"R-really?" Frank's excitement broke through his tiredness. Even thought he had wanted the present to have a hook on the back to be hung, he had sadly told me that he didn't think Mikey would display it. I wasn't sure if my brother was telling the truth, but it had been a sweet thing to say regardless.  


"I will."  


"Of course he will!" Alicia annotated. As much as I loved the way she put my brother in place, I couldn't understand how someone with Mikey's character allowed it.  


A last hug followed, shorter than the previous one because Mikey was still slightly reticent to show more of his soft side.

My mother also took her time for the hugging. "Be a good boy and listen to Gerard, ok?"  


"K-kay"  


"Bye, baby." She kissed his cheek holding him close. 

Frank looked up at her with parted lips, words not coming out easily. "G-goodnight, mom," he finally voiced. 

There was so much emotion behind that word, it seemed to fill his mouth like only essential words could. It didn't sound to me like part of our white lie, and my mother felt it as sincere as I did. More tears for this special night.  


"First time?" dad perceived her state. She nodded, out of words. "Thought so, you look exactly as you did when Gerard and Mikey said it as babies."

"Uh...Gerard, wait." mom stopped us by the door. "I'll get you a blanket for Frankie, he'll surely fall asleep in the car."  


"I have one, don't worry."  


"Sure?"  


"Sure, mom, I always have it there." I took her hands and kissed them. Her gaze was still set on Frankie, her mind on that three-lettered word. So simple, yet so meaningful.  


******

When we arrived home, I brought a sound asleep Frankie straight to bed. He didn't sense me replace his jeans for his pajamas or get under the bedclothes with him.  


I couldn't tell for how long I'd been sleeping when he woke me up. I turned on the lamp. Frankie's head was lying very close to mine over a tear-soaked pillow. He looked pained.

"Why are you crying, babe? You had a nightmare?"  


"N-no. H-he...he w-woke me up and...and s-started talking and t-talking and..." He rubbed his head.  


"You should have woken me up sooner, I could have told him to shut up or sing something so you wouldn't hear him."  


"N-no 'cause...'c-cause you have to w-work, yes." He showed how aware of things he was, how he cared. "I d-didn't pay atten-tion to him. N-no I didn't."  


"What was he trying to say?" I caressed his face with my thumb.

He didn't respond, but closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "G-gee?"  


"Yeah?"  


"I...I th-think I wanna s-see Tony again. B-but you h-have to be w-with us. Y-yeah," he declared the result of days of pondering. While fear was still visible in his eyes, meeting my father had helped him decide to give his a chance.  


"Of course, I'll be with you and everything will be alright," I promised.  


"B-but...dunno wh-when. N-not tomorrow...too s-soon. I...d-dunno..."  


"Frankie..." I gathered him in my arms. "You don't have anything to fear, Anthony won't take you away from us. Just...let him know you a little more, he truly loves you. And about when, my dad's staying for two more days so I'll be seeing him and won't have much time. We could wait until he leaves to call Tony. It'd be easier for me and It'll give you some more time to think."  


"Y-yeah, that's b-better," he mumbled. "N-now go sleep."  


"You too, doll."

I hid the fact that Anthony had been calling me every day while I was working, deadly worried about Frankie and asking how he was doing. No doubt I would be telling him of his son's decision right away, but letting Frank know all that could have made him feel under pressure.

******  


My mother phoned me the next morning to let me know that she had told dad all we knew about Frank, only leaving out the shooting incident. She offered to confess the whole lie, but I didn't want her to appear as the culprit when everything had to do with me. It was _my_ responsibility.  


I didn't send Frankie away for my father's visit. I was a coward and dreaded my dad's reaction. I wasn't up for a screaming session. Frank had a natural talent to convince people without even trying, so keeping him with me would make things easier. At worst, my father would at least abstain from raising his voice in front of Frankie.

We shared a coffee as my father told me about his work, his wife, and the new house they had bought. I'd only seen that woman a couple of times; she seemed as nice as she sounded through the phone. They had been together for almost two years, and she had a boy and a girl with her previous husband. The kids were the reason for the new house, since my dad's small apartment would not suffice.

Frankie found our conversation 'supermegaboring' -as he expressed it himself- so he had been going to the bedroom every ten minutes to get a different toy, game, or anything that could distract him. He drew, wrote and read to Puppy in a low voice. He played with a transformer robot, assembled a small puzzle and then switched to his ever-growing collection of construction blocks. When his hand betrayed him and caused part of his tall tower to fall, he wrathfully overturned the remains and came to sit on my lap.

"Ran out of things to do?" my father asked him.  


"Y-yeah. G-gee, buy me new h-hands."  


"What? Thought you'd say new toys..." I laughed.  


"So did I!" the older Way joined.  


"N-no, _hands_."  


"I can't do that, Frankie, they're not replaceable." I shook my head.  


"T-too bad..."  


"He seems very comfortable with you, I'd have never imagined you in this role," dad remarked. A good opportunity to speak.  


"Dad...about that, there's something a need to tell you."  


"Is something wrong? You look nervous, Gerard."  


"No...not exactly _wrong_. Last night...well...we lied a little about Frankie. But...wait! Only because of the possible argument the truth could have brought. We did it for Mikey," I began with the excuses.  


"Stop rambling, Gerard. What did you lie about?"  


"W-wasn't much, n-nope. S-some things were t-true," Frank stood up for me.  


"Frankie's right, really. Basically...it's all true but the part about him living with mom and she going to adopt him."  


"B-but she's like my m-mom the same."  


"Donna liked it very much when you called her that," dad told him, his face changing back to severe when he looked at me. "I don't get it, where does he live then?"  


"With me," I spurted.  


"What?" My father barely controlled his volume and Frankie covered his ears. "Sorry...you said the rest was true, so you mean that always since..."  


"Yes, Frankie's been living with me since the last time you saw me. Mom helps me a lot, and so do Ray and my other friend Bob, but it was my decision and Frankie is _my_ responsibility." I felt more confident now.

"Gerard..." Dad got up and paced the room like he always did when irritated. "As I told you, it made me really happy to know you had decided to get your life back on track and be more responsible. But it was enough with finding a good job and keeping it to start with. After the way you screwed up you _can't_ suddenly assume such a huge responsibility as taking care of a boy who's your brother's age! Even less one..." He stopped and glanced at Frankie who was still sitting frozen on my lap. "...one like Frankie. He's a very sweet kid but...I'm sure he needs lots of care and attention."  


"Well, I obviously _could_. It's been near five months and I think I've done pretty well," I spat offended.  


"G-gee takes care of m-me very well. R-really, Don!" Frankie interceded. "D-don't get mad at h-him. And...and Mikey's little ol-older than me, y-yes."  


"Jesus, Gerard I..." dad blew air through his nostrils loudly. "We should talk about this in better circumstances, alone."  


"No, dad, this is about Frankie. He has the right to give his opinion, and I have nothing to say that I couldn't say in front of him. Come on! You've talked to him last night, you've heard him today, you've seen him and even said yourself how comfortable he looks around me!" I managed to maintain a steady tone in spite of my indignation.  


"I know, I know, Frankie seems to be happy and healthy, I don't doubt that. I'm worried about _you_ , I still think you need some more time for yourself. There are some subjects I won't mention now, but you know what I'm talking about. You can't deal with your own problems in a proper way while having another person depending on you." he went on, and I regretted allowing Frankie to be in the middle. 

He was scared now, crying against my chest. "I...I'm f-fine with G-gerard. H-he...he's g-good, stop! D-don't fight 'cause of m-me...please..."  


"It's ok, Frankie, we're just talking. Nothing bad's gonna happen, I promise," I hushed him. "Dad...I understand your worries. Trust me, I do. I can't deny that there were moments when I felt this was too much for me, that I couldn't do it. But I found out that I was stronger than I thought, and Frankie was worth my efforts. I'm fine. I still have my job, I get there on time and even enjoy it. I can count on my best friend to stay with Frankie when I'm not home, and mom also supports me. I've learned to deal with all kinds of doctors and I never forget about the boy's medication. There's nothing I love more than spending time with him and helping him when he needs it. And I can tell you Frankie helps me a lot, too. He's one of the main reasons why I now have a better life."  


"You're as stubborn as your mother." He massaged his temples. "We better leave this here for the moment being."  


"For the moment and forever, I won't change my mind," I affirmed. 

He didn't say more, instead he crouched by us and stroked Frank's arm. "Frankie?" He waited until the mentioned turned to him. "I'm sorry that we scared you, you have nothing to fear. We weren't fighting about you, it's not your fault. Adults have arguments sometimes, it's normal, you don't need to worry."  


"K-kay. B-but you have to b-believe what Gee s-says. It...it's t-true," Frank uttered.  


"I do."  


My father left the house with his head low and a scarce 'talk to you later'. He didn't seem angry anymore, although I couldn't identify which feeling had replaced his displeasure.

"I d-don't like your dad b-being mad at y-you." Frankie looked sad, hugging Puppy and staring at the floor.  


"Baby," I got him on my lap again. "he's not mad. I know it might seem so 'cause you don't know him much. He's a little like Mikey, always seems angrier than he really is."  


"B-but then...th-then why he s-said all those th-things?"  


"Because he's worried about me." I hoped he wouldn't keep on asking.  


"Wh-why?"  


"Because..." I chose my words carefully. "I did some bad things before I met you. Everything's fine now, though, I...."  


"Wh-what bad th-things?" he interrupted.  


"I...I used to drink too much...."  


"Th-that's bad? I...I d-drink lots of j-juice!" he said confused, making me chuckle.  


"No baby, I meant _alcoholic_ drinks. Those are bad when you drink too much. It can make you sick, and you sometimes do things without thinking. Like...getting mad at the people you love when they're only trying to help you, using all your money to buy more drinks or losing your job. All that happened to me, that's why my dad's worried," I told him, uncertain of how much of it he'd understand. I just thought he needed to know.  


"Oh...wh-why you d-did it if it's b-bad?"  


"I don't know, because I was stupid. By the time I _realised_ that I'd been stupid, I had no more money. Before I found you, I'd gone to ask my dad for some. I told him about everything I had done wrong and that I wanted to start doing things right. So now he's afraid that because of taking care of you, I might not take care of myself to get better," I continued as simply as I could manage.  


"B-but you're b-better now, right G-gee? Y-you do things w-well. Y-yes, I think s-so."  


"Yes, I'm better, _you_ helped me get better." I kissed his lips which he was nervously biting.  


"I...I d-did?"  


"Yes, because you made me happy and I wanted to be a better person for you. I wanted to get better to take good care of you and to enjoy being with you," I answered spontaneously. 

Frank's eyes filled with tears. He grinned and his lovely and characteristic butterfly kisses invaded my whole face to finally nest on my awaiting mouth.  


"G-gee?" he suddenly frowned.  


"What, Frankie?"  


"Th-those times when...wh-when you d-drank that yellow th-thing that tasted and s-smelled funny...th-that was al-alco...uh...b-bad drink?"  


"Yes, it was beer, it's bad if you drink too much too often. Anyway, I shouldn't have drank any 'cause that could make me want more," I replied. 

He bit his bottom lip again, thinking. I feared to have disappointed him.  


"I...I w-won't let you drink th-that again. N-never. Y-you do it..." He accused me with a finger. "...and I k-kick your ass. Un-understood, G-gerard Way?"  


"Clear as water, Frankie Iero!" 

I couldn't stop laughing as I pushed him down on the couch and kissed him all over. He squirmed, giggled and shouted that it tickled; but then he grabbed me by my shirt and I fell on him. The tickling sensation now came from inside, warm and pleasant. One body calling for the other, quick hands, clothes discarded. No more than kisses, mutual exploration and skins melting together. No more but no less.  


******  


I didn't hear from my father again until the following night when he called our door. He appeared to be calmer than the day before.  


"Hey, kiddo! How are you?" he greeted Frankie placing a hand on his neck fatherly. 

Frank didn't move, didn't smile back. "Y-you better be g-good to Gee. H-he's better, he's d-doing good th-things. All g-good!"  


"I'll be nice, it's a promise." Dad laid his palm over his heart.  


"Th-then hello! And...and I'm f-fine, you?"  


"I'm fine too, thanks." Dad laughed. "You have a fierce defender here, Gerard."  


"You bet," I said not quite intentionally bitterly.  


"Son, I'm sorry if I offended you, it wasn't my intention to doubt your strength or aptitudes. I guess..."  


"You guess...?" I encouraged him to complete the phrase.  


"...I guess it shocked me to see how much you've grown up in a few months, the way you stand your ground, defending the life you chose. I...the least I can do is give you the chance to prove that you can carry on with it. Forget about my fears, they're mine and not yours."  


"It's fine, thanks dad."  


Once we sealed our renewed relationship, I invited him to join us for dinner. 

He stood where he was. "Wait, I have something for Frankie." he searched into the bag he was holding.  


"You didn't have to..."  


"Shut up, Gerard. His birthday is in about a month, right?"  


"Y-yes!" Frankie cheered.  


"Well, I won't be here by then, so this is my early present. It's nothing big, don't worry." 

He gave Frank a package that the boy teared open in seconds, revealing a puzzle -bigger than the ones he had but still not complicated looking- and more construction blocks.  


"Y-yay, thanks!"  


"I couldn't find hands, sorry," dad apologized and they both laughed. Right after that, Frank ran to the coffee table with the presents.  


"Wow, you found wooden blocks, I thought they didn't make them anymore!" I commented.  


"I asked for them in many stores, plastic is just not the same. Oh, and Gerard...I wish I had some money to help, but with the new house..."  


"It's not necessary, dad. We might not have enough for extras, but we do just fine," I glossed it over. 

What he said next was totally unexpected, one of those 'are you fucking kidding me?' moments.  


"Still I...I've been thinking. You know the old family watch? It's not even good looking and...there are things more important and urgent than traditions. I know it would not help for long but...what if you sold it?"  


	58. Chapter 58

_I know, nobody knows  
where it comes and where it goes.  
I know it's everybody's sin,  
you got to lose to know how to win._

"Gerard, why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something funny?" my father asked when, about two minutes after his proposition, I was _still_ staring at him, bemused.  


"Kinda..." I chuckled, causing him to frown.  


"Care to explain?"  


"Well, I don't know how you'll take this but..." I began.  


"More things you've hidden from me?"  


"This one was necessary, dad, I thought you'd kill me. Though now that I heard you say that...I might have feared in vain," I said. 

He sat down and patted the couch, insinuating that I should quit the rambling and do the same. "Speak."  


"Ok. Some weeks after I brought Frank..." I made a pause to look at the mentioned one who was building a house with his brand new blocks, luckily not paying attention to us. "...things got out of control. He was getting worse and worse and my boss wasn't gonna be able to pay me for two more weeks..."  


"Oh, Gerard...see what I was telling you? And you didn't ask for help!" he scolded me.  


"I knew mom was having economic issues too and I'd _just_ asked you for money. One day I just went desperate and...pawned your watch." I whispered the last part, watching my dad through semi closed eyes. 

He ran a hand through his face and then gazed blankly at the wall. I guessed he was controlling himself to not scream at me. "You should have called me and asked!" he exclaimed not too low. I checked on Frankie, but he was still fixated on his task.  


"I needed the money and was afraid you'd say no. I couldn't tell you what I needed it for! After how I'd fucked up..."  


"That's _not_ an excuse," he spat.  


I fought my own urge to shout. "What's the problem? Now you know everything and told me to sell the watch, so what's the point in bitching because of something that's in the past?"   


"You're right, you're right, I guess there's no point now. I'm just...sick and tired of you jumping behind each sudden idea you have without consulting us. That watch is a _family_ possession, for God's sake!" His face was red from containing the anger.  


"You admitted that the thing's ugly, come on!" I attempted a smile. My father's lips stayed pressed together in a straight line. "Sorry I..."  


"It's alright, Gerard, too late. So...that's why your mother acted so weird when I asked about how you paid for the meds?" he inquired.  


"No, she doesn't know I pawned the watch. I told everybody that my boss got some money she'd invested back ahead of schedule and wanted to help me. Since she'd met Frankie and all..."  


"Oh great, you've become a professional liar." Dad sighed. "Look, I'm gonna try to forget that you confessed all this because I don't want to spend my last hours here being mad at you. Where's the watch?"  


"Uh...still at the pawn shop, I've never had spare money to..."  


"Jesus, Gerard! Alright, as soon as I get paid I'm gonna send you money to get the watch back, then you can sell it..."  


"Thanks, dad! I'm so sorry..."  


"Let me finish. Next important -or stupid- decision you make without telling anyone, you can say 'goodbye' to my patience."  


"Okay, understood." I lowered my head. "I'm sorry dad, I was really desperate, I care about Frankie too much."  


"It's fine, I said it's forgotten for now," he repeated, finally forcing a smile. "And the watch _is_ ugly."  


"G-gee..." Frankie called me. It was so well-timed that it made me think that he had actually been aware of our whole discussion and was only waiting for us to stop and act friendly again.  


"Yes, Frankie?"  


"C-can you help me w-with this?" he pointed at the puzzle which pieces were scattered over the free half of the table. The other half was still occupied by the wood-bricked house, its roof consisting of a folded paperboard. Frank was fairly good and practical when it came to those kind of artistic, creative activities in opposition to the more rational, intellect-related ones.  


"Of course." I slid down to the floor.  


"Is it too hard for him?" dad questioned. "I asked Donna and Mikey what I could get him, but I wasn't sure of which one to choose...I could get it changed tomorrow morning if necessary."  


"Oh no, it's just fine. He loves the other puzzles he has because of the images, but they're a little _too_ easy, he could assemble them blindfolded by now. This one's perfect, he only needs a little help to get things organized," I explained.  


"They have the best and most diverse puzzles I've ever seen in the place where I bought this. And you know what else is different about them? Even their larger puzzles have pieces big enough. Usually, the bigger the puzzle is...the smaller the pieces; sometimes you can barely handle them," he commented enthusiastically. I could see how he had missed visiting toy stores. It'd been a long time since Mikey and I were children, and his new wife's kids were almost teenagers already.  


"Yeah, I know what you mean. This one's cool!" I agreed. My boyfriend was waiting for me to assist him, so I focused on him. "Let's see, Frankie: look at the drawing on the box's cover. What are the biggest, most important things -or colors- in the image ? Don't pay attention now to the little things."  


"Uh..." he took the cover and examined it. "Th-there's the s-sky and...and the grass and...d-dogs!"  


"Exactly. Now first, you better make all pieces look up or it'll be a problem to know what they are," I suggested.  


"T-true, I forgot!" He giggled. The three of us helped turn the things over.  


"Now choose any piece that's part of the sky, one that's part of the grass and one that's part of the dogs." I watched him quickly grab a blue, a green, and a white with black dots piece. "And...place them separately on the table."  


"K-kay, now?" He awaited after accommodating the objects in front of him .  


"Look at all the others. Each piece you pick, you put it together with the one out of those three you separated that has a similar color. That way it'll be easier later because if you want to, for example, begin with the sky, you'll only have to search into the blue pile. Yes?" 

As I was explaining this to Frankie, I caught a glance of my father. He had an elbow on the table, head propped up on his hand and he was eying me with an apparent proud smile.  


"Ahh, th-that's fun! I'll d-do it all m-myself now, y-you can keep t-talking." Frankie waved at us. "B-but be good and d-don't fight, kay?"  


"Yes, sir!" dad saluted him soldier style.  


"I'm gonna go get dinner ready," I announced after a while, noticing that none of us knew what to talk about. We were perhaps afraid of not being able to fulfill Frank's order, and we failed at thinking of a possible casual subject.  


My father followed me. "I'll help you, it seems Frankie's well entertained here."   


"W-wait, Gee!" Frank stopped me. "Th-there are pieces th-that have like...s-sky and dogs or...or d-dogs and grass. Wh-where I put th-them?"  


"I'd say you make a new pile with those and leave them for later."  


"Y-yeah, good i-idea." He nodded happily. "N-now go make d-dinner 'cause I...I'm h-hungry."

"You're very patient with Frankie, it's incredible," dad commented once we were in the kitchen. "You're almost like a father to him."  


I cringed at his comment. "I'm not a _father_ , dad, I'm too young. He's only _five years_ younger than me! But Frankie didn't find many patient people through his life. His...intellectual abilities would be much more developed if he'd gotten the needed help and motivation when younger, it's a lot harder now. Can you believe a fucking teacher from a _mental institution_ refused to keep on teaching Frank and said -with the kid being present- that he wasn't able to learn anymore 'cause he was retarded?"  


"What? Don't _all_ kids in those places have problems? A teacher working there is supposed to know how to deal with them."  


"You said it well, _supposed,_ " I voiced with resentment. "What's more, no one did anything about it, they just trusted that asshole to recognize 'lost causes'. Only that Frank's _never_ been one, he just needed a little more dedication. The nurse that used to take care of him did what she could, but of course she had more kids to watch and not enough time."  


"How old was Frankie when that idiot said that to him?" my father asked concerned.  


"About 11, I think. He can read rather well but his writing is basic, like a 8 year old's. He's slightly improved in these months, though. Math's his major difficulty..."  


"It's really sad to know he could have done better if the circumstances had been different, but you shouldn't think about it so much. You can't change the past, son. You're at least helping Frank _now_." He gave me a quick hug and kissed my head. 

Having my hands occupied with the tomatoes I was slicing, I returned the gesture with a smile and a nod. "I know."  


By the time the meal was ready, so was Frank's puzzle. He proudly showed it to us, but then speedily proceeded to dissemble it again and shove it into the box. He got nearly the same pleasure out of this that he did from putting it together. The house was next. In a moment everything was in order and he took it all back to our room.

From then on, the night was pleasant and full of chatting. We didn't need to avoid sad or hard matters; merrier topics came up spontaneously. Merrier and random, as it was usual whenever Frankie was involved. He practically interviewed my dad, not leaving anything unasked, and told him to bring his wife's kids along next time so he could befriend them.  


After dinner, we stayed up late playing Pictionary. It was Friday after all and dad wouldn't be leaving until noon, so we could afford doing that.  


Not for a moment did I consider the possibility of telling my father about my and Frank's relationship, and I was relieved that the boy didn't do anything that could reveal it. Dad met the most childish side of Frank, he had even seen me as his father. There was no way to tell him the truth without getting an outraged reaction from him. I couldn't make someone who had only half met Frankie understand and believe that there was nothing wrong, that it was all about love between us. Why risk it? Why turn the short time I had with my father into disaster? That was my main problem: time...or lack of it. He'd been right about me keeping things from everybody, I knew it wasn't right, but some things _needed_ to be kept secret for the greatest good. And so they would for now.

******  


The next afternoon, I asked Frankie if he was ready to see his dad again. He ran to the bedroom, assumed a fetal position on the bed and had a whispered conversation with the voice inside his head. I didn't interfere, it was his way of dealing with it. A considerable amount of minutes elapsed before he came to me teary-eyed and shaking and told me to call his father.  


Seeing him still so insecure and frightened, I suggested that we had the meeting at home. Frankie felt more at ease with that idea and Anthony thought it perfect and safer. The good man had already cried on the phone two days ago when I revealed his son's decision. Having now the confirmation, knowing it would happen the following day, brought him to the limit. The line went silent all of a sudden. Seconds later Greg picked up the phone telling me that Tony couldn't talk at the moment but they'd be here after lunch.

Later, I called Ray. I had agreed to keep him informed about everything related to Frank and Anthony from now on. He insisted on being with us when Tony came so he could finally meet him. I was sure that he would like him, it was honestly hard to imagine someone _not_ liking that guy. Besides, I could use some extra help in case Frankie flipped out.

******  


The doorbell rang and Frankie disappeared. Ray attempted to go after him, but I caught his wrist. "No, leave him, I'm sure he'll be back."  


"But...will he be fine there alone?" Ray worried.  


"Yes, he'll just curl up on the bed for a while, I guess he needs to gather some more courage," I said, going to open the door.  


Tony's eyes were reddened and puffy, yet the shine in them held hope. His hand never left Greg's as they walked into the house and we greeted each other. It was briefer and less effusive than other times, only because we were all nervous and expectant.  


"Tony, Greg...this is Ray, my best friend. He's the one who stays here with Frankie every day while I'm working," I introduced Toro. 

They shook hands and I couldn't help paying attention to the way Ray stared at Anthony.  


"Oh my, no need to tell me who's Tony out of you two, Frank looks _too much_ like you," he expressed dumbfounded.  


"It's incredible, isn't it? They're like two drops of water." Greg laughed.  


"Where's he?" Tony looked around, preoccupied.  


"He ran to our room when he heard the doorbell, must be nerves." I kept a secure tone in my voice.  


"Don't worry, babe," Greg made his boyfriend sit. "let's give him some time."  


"I'd wait the rest of my life." he assented.  


As we got into a semi-forced small talk, I realised that Ray was the one asking most of the questions. Nothing too deep or complicated -he knew all the important information from me anyway; it was more like a simple, informal interrogation to get Iero to keep on speaking, giving my friend the chance to form an opinion about him. 

I studied Ray's hands. Whenever he was talking to someone he didn't like, his hands would tense up and close in a fist. However, they were now hanging limp in between his legs. Good sign.  


Ray, Greg and I looked back when we heard soft footsteps. Frankie was standing open mouthed behind the couch. I turned my head to Tony who was still staring straight ahead, unable to convince the muscles of his neck to comply.  


"T-tony?" Frank's call was so muffled that it could have easily gone unnoted.

Anthony screwed his eyes shut, immovable. Maybe he had indeed not heard his son.  


"D-dad?" The voice came shaky but louder this time. As if the importance of the word had only dawned on him after he pronounced it, Frankie gasped. His eyes grew big and he bit his thumb.  


The only visible change in Tony were the wet trails that freely advanced down his cheeks, cascading to his folded legs. His boyfriend shared a silent, doubtful look with me and my friend and resolved to giving his partner's knee a squeeze. 

Awaken from the daze, Anthony allowed his body to move and there he was, kneeling on the couch, only the backrest separating him from his son who was there _for real_. He hadn't dreamed him.  


"D-dad?" Frankie repeated, letting his father know that his ears hadn't deceived him before.  


"Oh my God, son, I l-love you so much..." His arms flew forward, self impulsed. Frank's only needed seconds to do the same. 

The embrace was tight, desperate, worth more than sixteen years. Tears, smiles, sobs, laughs. Murmured, private words that I didn't try to grasp because it was _their_ moment, they were _their_ words. I knew the obstacle in between them was annoying Frankie, but he couldn't let go of the arms keeping him close and warm. He clumsily raised a leg on the backrest and Tony pulled him all the way over it and into his lap like he was as light as that baby he'd held so many years ago.  


The rest of us didn't dare utter a single word, didn't want to break the moment. We should have probably left them alone, but no one could do so. We hadn't moved and inch; our eyes hadn't left those two figures, those two puzzle pieces finally put together, matching perfectly. They must have stayed like that for an hour, the words coming out of them never louder than a whisper, never making it to a phrase, never audible or understandable to us.  


The grip subsided once the flood of emotions calmed down a bit. Frankie was leaning on his dad's chest, one hand playing with his shirt and the other hid behind the man. Anthony's left fingers caressed Frank's scalp, the right ones drawing circles on his back. A smile was painted on the younger's lips, but it disappeared soon.  


"S-sorry..." was the first thing I could make out.  


"Why, Frankie?" Tony was as surprised with the apology as we were. Was he sorry for freaking out before?  


"'C-cause...'cause I kn-know parents like n-normal kids more. S-special kids are a p-problem, o-other children from wh-where I lived t-told me. Th-that's why mom l-left me in the s-street. Y-yeah and..."  


"Frankie, no..." his father tried to stop him.  


"...I c-can't be normal but...but I'll be g-good. P-promise! P-please don't l-leave me and...and l-let me stay w-with Gee. W-wanna see you and g-go out and so b-but...I live _h-here_ , kay?" he went on.  


"Frankie, let him talk!" I told him.  


"You do speak a lot, uh?" Tony joked, kissing Frank's head. "Where do I start? First, I told you I won't take you _anywhere_. For now I only wanna spend time with you, then we'll see what to do in the future, but I'll _never_ tear you apart from your new family. I know you love them and they love you. About the other things you were saying, I'll make it simple: you're _perfect_ to me. You are _not_ a problem and I could have never dreamed of having a better son than you. Why would I want a boring _normal_ kid?"  


"D-dunno..."  


"Tell me something, Frankie: what do dads like to do the most with their kids?" Iero asked him. 

Frank again chewed on his thumb, pensive. "P-play?"  


"Aha. Play with toys, balls, boardgames or any other thing. Or maybe take them to a park! You know...swings, slides, seesaws...that's fun, too."  


"Y-yeah!"  


"If my son was a 'normal' 18 year-old I'd be feeling sad, 'cause I'd have missed doing all that with him. But...you _still_ like doing those things, don't you?" I now understood where Tony was going.  


"Y-yes! I...I h-have many toys and...and g-games and I l-love swings. B-but Gee doesn't w-want to push me m-much 'cause he says I m-might fall." He pouted.  


"It's just that sometimes I'm not sure if he holds himself well," I explicated. Although I admitted that I tended to exaggerate, the thought of Frankie getting hurt terrified me.  


"Well, I can understand why Gerard's afraid, but what I'm trying to say is...we can _still_ share all that precisely because you're _not_ a boring normal teenager. You're a _lot_ better!"  


"I...I am?"  


"You _rock_ , boy," Greg opined. 

Frankie was now grinning in his father's arms, his insecurities left behind.  


"Oh, there's something you need to know," Tony addressed me. "and it's good that Ray's here too."  


"Uh? Does it have to do with me?" Ray asked.  


"Sort of. I was pretty optimistic about today, I felt that things were gonna be alright so I made some early decisions. I talked to the guys in the band and they agreed to have free weeks in between. I mean...we travel and play during one week, and the next one we don't. We'll try to hit the farthest cities at mid-week, which should make things work. Greg and I rented a small, one-room apartment near here to stay during our free weeks."  


"It's tiny and half destroyed but we have a bed, a mini-kitchen and a bathroom. Enough," Greg added.  


"And before you ask what this has to do with Ray...I've been thinking that maybe I can take care of Frankie during those weeks. We'd get to know each other better and he wouldn't have to leave the house, which is what scares him the most," he exposed.  


"Well, as much as I'd miss Frankie  'cause I'm too used to spending every day with him, I think it's a good idea." Ray's look told me he approved Tony, I didn't need him to speak it out. "What do you think, Gerard?"  


"I think it's great news, I'm all for it if Frankie agrees." We all set our eyes on him, but he had gotten lost somewhere during the conversation. He rarely stayed attentive for long.  


"Wh-what?"  


"Would you like Tony and Ray to take turns staying with you? One week it'd be Ray and one week your dad," I filled him in.  


"Y-yes, I...I th-think it'll be c-cool. Y-yeah," he responded coldly.  


"Are you sure? We can wait if you're still not ready," Anthony made clear.  


"It's f-fine. Wh-who stays f-first?"  


"Ray I guess, we haven't played this week because I had things to arrange here, so we'll be busy the next one. But I'll call you everyday, ok?"  


"K-kay." Frank nodded.  


Anthony was a little uncomfortable with his son's sudden lack of enthusiasm. "Are you mad at me?"   


"N-no I'm not." The boy appeared bothered by the insistence. I nonchalantly shook my head when I caught Tony's eyes, reminding him not to read too much into Frank's behavior. I knew it wasn't intentional.  


"D-dad?" Frank broke his several minutes long silence. We were still amazed at how fast he had adopted that word, while for most people it usually took time. But Frankie was more innocent and simple-minded. He knew Anthony was his father, he'd accepted it and was fine with it; so why not call him that?  


"Yes?" Anthony's heart surely skipped a beat every time he heard it. It must have felt so unreal.  


"Y-you can speak 'b-bout boyfriends with your d-dad, right?" Frank launched. 

Ray met my own worried look and I became _awfully_ anxious and scared. My hands went cold, my ears felt stuffed and I saw white before my eyes. I blinked to chase away the whiteness but it instead turned to black, a black translucent curtain filtering the images. A momentary dizziness overcame me as a listened to their voices far away.  


"Yes, why? Do you like somebody, son?" Anthony...  


"Y-yes but..." Frankie...  


"Gerard? Gerard, are you ok? Can you hear me?" Ray, that _had_ to be him. "GERARD!"  


"Uh?" I mumbled, the high-pitched scream bringing me back. I now distinguished my friend offering me a glass of water. I took it, still light-headed.  


"You scared us, boy. Do you feel okay? You're white as a ghost." Greg touched my forehead while Tony rubbed my hands that were still freezing cold. 

I was wondering where Frank was when he landed on my lap, hugging and rocking me. "Y-you okay?" He kissed my cheek.  


"Frankie, Gerard needs air..." Tony tried to pull him away from me and he screamed.  


"N-NO! HE N-NEEDS _ME_!"  


"It's ok, I'm fine. I guess the overdose of emotions affected me." I lied only in part, for that _had_ contributed; though I was basically about to piss my pants out of pure, plain _fear_. Cowardice.  


"Sure you're better now?" Ray pressed.  


"Yes, totally fine." I smiled nervously. Anthony knew already, there was no way he wouldn't suspect.

"D-dad..." Frankie resumed, still holding me. I concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths to avoid passing out once again. "...I d-do like a b-boy."  


"Yes?" Iero's rhetorical question was too short for me to analyze. I was searching for sarcasm in his speech, so I was glad he said more. "Want me to give you advice or...does he know you like him?"  


"Fuck he knows, he knows he knows...." I _thought_ I'd repeated that in my head. Judging by Ray's face -who was the closest to me besides Frank- it might have escaped out.  


"Y-yes he d-does! H-he likes me t-too. I...I l-love him and he l-loves me very m-much." There was no way to stop what was coming, Frankie would not stop now.  


"That's great, Frankie!" Greg was participant of the most stressful scene of my life.  


"What's his name, son?" Anthony just _had_ to ask. 

I couldn't see his face and didn't want him to see mine. I cowered behind Frank at the same time that Ray's supporting hand patted my back; either that or he was silently passing his condolences.  


"G-gerard! H-he...he's my b-boyfriend, dad!" He sounded so cheerful, innocently sending me to a possible doom.

With every person who had found out it had been hard, yes. But nothing compared to discussing it with Frank's father. Frank's father who had just gotten him back after 16 years. He would kill for Frankie without thinking twice if he thought someone was hurting him. However, he had seemed to know that there was something between us since that first day in the mall, and yet he never changed the way he treated me. If he had disliked any of the possibilities crossing his mind, he would have asked right away.

I carefully peeped over Frankie's shoulder, my arms enclosing his waist, and I prepared to face Anthony's reaction. Frank and I together, unashamed.


	59. Chapter 59

_Oh! Darling, please believe me,  
I'll never do you no harm.  
Believe me when I tell you  
I'll never do you no harm_.

"It's true," I said, spying Frank's smiling face sideways. "I'm Frankie's boyfriend."  


"W-we're in l-love." He nodded proudly, turning to leave a brief but sweet kiss on my lips. 

Anthony and Greg looked at each other speechlessly and then back at us. Their jaws hung open so wide that they reminded me of cartoons.  


Ray noticed the tension and got up. "I'll be in the kitchen. Call me if needed...though I think you'll be fine, you did nothing wrong," he told me loud enough for the others to hear.

"So...it wasn't my imagination. I _felt_ that there was something more between you two. I didn't want to say anything since I wasn't sure. I thought that Frankie was probably just infatuated with you, Gerard...because of how you've taken care of him. Thought it was maybe a one-sided thing but now...I...I don't know what to think..." Tony faltered, face hidden behind his hands. 

I sensed Greg's stare digging a hole in me, testing me like he had that night when I first told Anthony about his son. 

Again I endured it firmly, shaking my head slowly as my eyes moistened. "I love him," I whispered, and the man's attention returned to Tony.  


"D-dad, why y-you're not talking an-anymore? Y-you're angry? P-please don't be? G-gerard's very good w-with me, r-really!" Frank reached out to hug his father who welcomed him in his arms. I felt suddenly cold and unprotected without him near me.  


"I'm not mad, son. I just...I'm not sure if this is right..."  


"'C-cause I'm special?" Frankie asked with sadness. 

Anthony was about to respond, but Greg squeezed his hand and he nodded towards him understandingly.  


"Ok, Frankie, first I'd like you to explain what you understand by 'boyfriends'. And Gerard, I guess you know what I mean with this question..." I had never seen Iero so serious; he looked even menacing, holding his son in a protective way as if to keep him away from the potential monster. Yet he didn't sound exactly accusing, just immensely worried. It was understandable.  


"B-boyfriends means...wh-when you love each o-other very m-much and...and you k-kiss a lot and s-sometimes with t-tongues and...you caress and c-cuddle and touch and...w-well...other th-things, you kn-know?" Frankie was quick to list, blushing at his last words. 

Anthony closed his eyes tightly and rubbed his forehead. I could almost read his thoughts; I bet they were repeating 'please, tell me you didn't' and he was ready to jump on me.  


I didn't give him time to ask. "Tony we didn't...we never...got that far, I swear."   


"N-no, we never d-did _that_ thing b-boyfriends do! W-we make love in o-other ways, yes," Frankie backed me up, though what he said could be taken the wrong way too.  


"How...how did this start, Gerard? How long...when...just... _how_?" Iero questioned, deliberately ignoring Frank's remark for the moment. "Please, don't think I'm implying anything bad about you. I don't forget the fact that you searched for me. I've seen how much you care for Frankie, how happy he looks around you. But he's...it's hard for me to _imagine_...it."

I assented solemnly  "I know what you mean. It's been about four months. Since the beginning Frankie...oh God, this might sound wrong but..."  


"Go ahead," he signed to accompany his words.

"...he told me he liked me, that I was handsome. Sometimes he would stare at me or kiss my cheek out of nowhere. I tried not to give much importance to it, I thought he was only being grateful. But as days passed by it got worse. The voice he'd use when talking or the way in which he'd look at me weren't _childish_ , and he'd try to kiss my mouth every time he could."  


"Y-yes 'cause...'c-cause I liked him a l-lot, since al-always!" Frank interrupted me.  


"Let Gerard talk now, Frankie," his father requested kindly.  


"Oh, k-kay."  


"I swear I didn't do anything to confuse him. I eventually realised that I was feeling something for him too. I didn't want to, I fought against it at first 'cause it kinda terrified me, I wasn't sure myself if it was right. I didn't know if he meant it, if he was aware of the things he did and said. I resisted until one day I couldn't help kissing him back. Even then I kept some distance, I told him we couldn't be boyfriends yet, that it was too soon. I decided to wait until he got his meds..." I continued, trembling but regaining some confidence.

Anthony appeared to be a little calmer. "What happened then?"   


"W-we became b-boyfriends!" Frank burst out. 

An unrestrained laugh came from Greg; nonetheless he placed one finger on the boy's lips. "Shh."  


"S-sorry!" Frankie giggled. Unlike me, he didn't seem nervous; from his point of view there wasn't any reason for other people to consider our relationship wrong. 

I wished I was as innocent, or stronger and braver to just shout it to the winds that I loved him. The truth was that it still scared me, I still feared the consequences  


"I kept waiting. If Frankie had never again shown any signs of being in love with me, I'd have accepted it and made no more moves on him. I'd have locked up my feelings and been his big brother if that's what he needed. But...soon Frankie proved to me that he _still_ felt the same. I knew it was genuine, that he had full conscience of his words and actions. I gave in, told him I loved him too...though I was still afraid of using the term 'boyfriends'," I confessed, getting lost in Frank's hazel orbs that shined in front of me. They wordlessly spoke of love, and I wanted my eyes to transmit the same to him.  


"Why were you so afraid if you felt sure of what you both wanted?" Greg queried with a jot of hostility.  


"I was afraid of other people's reaction. Not _ashamed,_ I need to make this clear. I could _never_ be ashamed. Frankie's the best, most beautiful and kindest person I could be with. I was afraid of misconceptions, of people thinking me a monster and wanting to save Frankie from me. Basically frightened to death at the possibility of losing him," I sniveled. "Please, Anthony...say you do believe me that our relationship's all about love. I've never forced Frankie to do anything he wasn't comfortable with and I never will. He decides, I only want to make him happy, I just need him by my side. We've never..."  


"I believe you, Gerard. This must have reminded you of a trial but it's not my intention, I'm just concerned. I suspected something, yes, but to actually _know_ it was true was slightly different. It was shocking, to say the least." Anthony's callused hand was on my shoulder, and his gaze -one that held far more experience than expected for someone his age- supported his words.  


"Thank you."  


"Now Frankie, I want to hear your version."  


"Anthony..." I cut him off, the necessity of winning his complete trust impelling me. "I think it'll be better if you two talk in private, that way Frankie will feel free to tell you everything he needs and you can fulfill any doubts."  


"Are you sure? You can stay, I'd just ask for you to let Frankie speak as I did with him when it was your turn..."  


"I'm sure, I don't want to indirectly influence Frank in any way. I'll be in the kitchen with Ray." I smiled.  


"Wait, I'm coming with you." Greg kissed his man and joined me. "Good luck, love."

******  


"Look, Gerard," Greg said as soon as we were out of their hearing range, forgetting about Ray who eyed us from the table. "I have no reason to doubt you, you don't seem like the perverted type to me at all, and Frankie clearly loves you. I trust you, I think you're a good boy. But I _hope_ I'm not wrong 'cause if I were...if I were then you'd eat dirt, you understand?"  


"Yes, I do," I replied casually, filling the kettle. "But you're _not_ wrong, so I'll rather have coffee and some cookies."  


"I like you, kid." He chuckled. "I could use some coffee too."  


"Ray?" I invited.  


"Yes, please. But you talk, I'll prepare it."  


"Greg...there's something I need you to know. I haven't dared tell Anthony yet, I thought it was too soon to go into that but...now Frankie might end up mentioning it to him, so..." The only part of the information I hadn't revealed to them was burning inside of me. This was the moment to speak, for waiting even more could get me into worse trouble.  


"You mean, about what happened to Frank at the institution?" Ray inquired.  


"Yeah..."  


"What is it? I gather it's not good." The drummer assumed an attentive position, arms folded over the table, urging me to speak.  


"Frankie...we never...had sex, but he's not exactly a virgin..."  


"WHAT? How...what do you mean?" Greg screamed, eyes wide.  


"Some months before his mother took him out of that place, a friend -another patient- persuaded him to 'make love'," I quoted with my fingers. "Of course, that boy didn't take any precaution, and never stopped even when Frank cried for him to do it."  


"Oh fuck! You mean Frankie was ... _raped_?"  


"I'm not sure if it could be exactly considered rape, both of them being mentally ill and not fully aware of what they were doing. But in practice, it was sadly close to it," I agreed.  


"Oh fuck..." Greg swore again. "Tony's gonna freak out so bad..."  


"I did too. One night, I just tried to hold Frankie from behind while in bed and he began to ramble about not wanting to make love. That's when he told me, and it seriously made me want to punch someone. You can imagine now how careful I am with each step Frank and I take in our relationship."  


"Yes..." He sighed. "Please, tell me all you know about that, I'll talk to Anthony later."  


"I'd be very thankful if you did."  


I related everything Grace had told me about John. His problems, how he became Frank's friend and what had happened after the nurse found out about that incident. As the three of us were drinking coffee and discussing how much Frankie seemed to have understood from it all, we heard Anthony cry in the living room.  


"As I feared, I think Frankie already told him," I supposed.  


"Should I go?" Greg pondered.  


"I'd say we all stay here until they call us," Ray gave his opinion.  


Around forty minutes went by, and our conversation veered to music. Even if he was now in a blues band, Greg was a big fan of classic heavy metal and had seen Iron Maiden live several times. We went from interrogating him about the differences in every tour, to remembering how sad it had been when the legendary Bruce Dickinson left the band for some years and was replaced by a gorilla-looking guy.  


"Can you believe I had to see them with that simian the first time?" I recalled.  


"Oh, man! That's not a good debut at all!" Greg mocked me.  


"Come on, Blaze wasn't _that_ bad!" Ray defended him.  


"He wasn't that bad? He was _worse_ than bad. Ok, he did well with the new songs, but _ruined_ all of the old ones, Ray! Good that the good ol' Bruce returned and I could attend a real Maiden show later. But dude, Greg, I wish I was older, I missed the best years!"

"Hey boys, I didn't want to interrupt your chat, it seemed interesting," Anthony walked in with reddened eyes, trying to hide his emotions. "but you can join me and Frankie if you want."  


"Tony babe...I guess Frankie told you about what happened with that boy?"  


"Yes...fuck...I..." He hugged Greg. "...how do you...?"  


"Gerard explained it to me. Don't think about it now, I'll fill you in later, ok?"  


"Ok..."  


"Everything fine besides that, Anthony?" I asked.  


"Yes, sorry again for putting you through all that interrogatory. After talking to Frankie I can only thank you, I don't think he could find any other boy with your patience and dedication."  


I felt heat raise to my face, the unequivocal sign that I was blushing. "Uh...thanks. I guess that comes naturally when you love someone so much."   


"Yet Frank's case is complicated, so you have double merit. Another thing I learned while listening to my son is that...he's _no_ little kid." He laughed nervously, still finding it hard to accept the idea. "Not all the time, for sure! My Frankie's one complex character. A kid, a teenager and more; all in the same small package."  


"You just described him perfectly," Ray threw in.  


"We also had a little...sex talk, I thought it was necessary and my obligation as a father. I explained everything he might need to know as simple as possible," Tony informed me. "I know you had told him some things already but..."  


"It's fine, there's nothing like a father for that. Besides, I didn't know how to go about some details, I'm still too young to give someone the famous _sex talk_." I laughed, relieved. Frankie was lucky to have Anthony as his father, it must be awkward for straight dads to talk about sex with their gay sons. "What's Frankie doing now?"  


"He's looking at some pictures of the band playing that I brought. Wanna see them?" His invitation killed my remaining fears.  


"Yeah! Just let me get more coffee and chocolate for Frankie first."  


******

After an evening sharing stories and games, everybody else left and I sat with Frankie, enjoying that wonderful feeling of inner peace. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I had closed my eyes and leaned my head on the backrest, breathing slowly and deeply, relaxing. My loved one imitating my pose, only _I_ was his support. Suddenly, I didn't see but _sensed_ him observing me. I lazily let my eyelids open half-way revealing a curious, meditative looking Frank. He appeared to be about to say something.  


I kissed his nose. "You need anything, pretty?"  


"Y-you...you have l-lube?" he mumbled. 

My eyes cracked fully open. "If I have _love_?" I assumed I had misheard him. "I have _lots_ of love for you!"  


"N-not love... _lube._ Th-that thing you u-use when...when y-you're gonna make l-love, like _really_ m-make love so it d-doesn't hurt much? Y-you need to h-have! It..it's not that I w-want to do it now. N-NO! D-dunno when. B-but my dad s-said, just in c-case," he gestured, and in that moment I wanted to kill Anthony.  


"Uh yes, I do have some, don't worry," was all I could say. I wasn't lying anyway, though I had it since before meeting Frank.  


"Ah, k-kay then." He kissed my lips and laid back on me. I, on the other hand, wasn't relaxed anymore.

 _Just in case_? Those three words shook up my peace. Was Frankie _only_ repeating his dad's words? Was he actually _considering_ the possibility? Just when I had gotten used to the idea that we'd maybe never go farther and I was totally fine with it? It's not that I didn't want us to make love; but if it happened, I wanted it to be a good experience for Frank. Something opposite to his first one. That's why it was a big deal to me. It scared me.

******  


The effects of the sex talk lasted for three more days. Frankie continued to remember details at the most random moments and he came up with new doubts. Those went from absurd questions like: 'How can your thingy breathe with a condom?' to inquietudes that no one wanted to discuss like: 'How can you stick your fingers into an ass hole? That's eww!'. I answered everything as well -and quickly- as I could manage, always praying that it would be the last time.  


It had been even more difficult for Ray, who was also the target of Frank's queries. At a point it got so awkward that he called me to my job, not knowing what to do.  


"What did he ask?" I muffled my laughter.  


"Don't laugh at me, you don't like answering these kind of questions either!"  


"I know Ray, but that's the thing. Now I find it funny 'cause it's not me! Well, speak before another customer enters."  


"He just asked me if the boy who gets his boyfriend's thingy put into his ass is like a girl! It seems that talk left him very interested in the subject, uh? What do I answer to that?"  


"Tell him...uh....fuck, wait." I spotted one of my coworkers approaching me, so I hid behind the shelvings. "Ok...tell Frankie that...no one's a girl. It's just that boys only have _that_ hole and...I don't know, Ray! Just...say whatever comes to your mind or...offer him something to eat and hope he'll forget about it?"  


"Boys, holes, and no girls? Interesting, Way, _very_ interesting." My partner almost gave me a heart attack, peeping his head from the other side of a shelf in between some folders. He flaunted a mocking grin, eyebrows arched in surprise, and then walked away.  


"Oh, great..." I groaned into the phone, predicting lots of jokes about my sexuality.  


"What...?" Ray's voice brought me back.  


"Nothing it's just..." I looked around to make sure I was alone. "...a guy who works with me heard me and it apparently amused him too much."  


"Oh my God!" Ray began to laugh loudly. "Don't worry, I'll figure out what to do, you have enough to deal with there!"  


"Ok, thanks, even if you're making fun of me."  


"Sorry Gerard, it's funny when it's not me. See you!" he retorted and hung up.

That day -or what was left of it- held out the prospect of normality as I arrived home, Frankie and I going through our daily routine. Not a boring, annoying one; he unconsciously added to every activity the touch that made it different: a comment, a gesture, a laugh, even his protests turned our every-day life far more interesting.

It had been a perfectly normal day so far up to the moment when we walked into the bedroom, ready to snuggle together waiting for sleep to come -which was usually soon. While Frankie took off his clothes to change into his pajamas, I checked the alarm clock. Having made sure that it was set on the right time, I found myself observing my recently acquired nightstand. It had been a gift, really. Ray had found it while cleaning his grandma's attic a couple of days ago and brought it, sick and tired of seeing me use a chair. The old piece of furniture was coated in half-splintered, _pink formica_ , but served for its purpose. Ray said it was perfect for us; that pink suited us like no other color and not only because of the gay connotation, also because we were cheesily and 'fairytale-y' in love. My friend _seriously_ needed a girl, only then he would stop calling us 'oversugared' and all those other adjectives that were mostly made up by him.

I lowered my pants and sat on the bed to get rid of them. When I turned to look at Frankie I found him kneeling behind me in only his boxers. He hadn't even grabbed his pajamas; he was just there biting his lip, staring with pleading eyes. He crawled towards me and kissed my neck, my jaw, my cheek, my mouth.  


"D-don't wanna s-sleep yet. N-nope," a seductive voice declared as trembling fingers played with the end of my hoodie. 

I knew what Frankie wanted, so I lifted my arms and let him do his job. With the same move he also freed me from my shirt. Next he straddled me, giggled, pushed me down and fell on top of me.  


"H-hello!" He giggled some more, blinking mechanically because his eyes felt strange without glasses. He was also so close that he probably saw me double.  


"Hello, beautiful! And hello to your little friend down there, too," I replied, feeling him against my own groin. I'd undoubtedly be in the same condition in seconds, with us both already immersed into a messy, wet tongue game. Bodies rocking, hands seeking waistbands and fumbling with restraining fabrics.  


"W-wait!" he stood to finish the task, made a ball out of our underwear and threw it to the air. "An-and...they f-flied!"  


"Flying boxers? Oh, that's new!" I laughed. I didn't care to correct his verb conjugation, that would have been a certain turn-off.  


"Y-yes!" He dived into me without mercy, as he always enjoyed doing. "Ouch! Th-think my thingy b-broke. L-lemme see...no, it...it's s-still there and h-happy!"  


"Good, but I think I'm _all_ broken!" I joked, though that had been painful for real.  


"Sh-shut up! Y-you said you l-liked me fat th-the same!"  


"I told you not to call yourself fat, and I _adore_ your round shapes. I'm so gonna pinch you all over." I took hold of his love handles and projected my hips up, Frankie and I moaning together into the resumed kiss, insecurities forwarded to oblivion.  


As skin got warmer, our hands ventured farther and our respiration became more ragged. Somewhere in the middle of our passionate communion, I complied to the sheer need to open my eyes. They met another pair just as alert on the face below me. The world stopped, same as all movement and sound. I saw doubt, fear, want...  


"L-love you, Gee." Love...bringing a smile to his face.  


"I love you too, Frankie." My lips couldn't resist the distance anymore, but they didn't get much. Frankie detained the kiss when his hands cupped my face, pushing it apart from him.  


"I...I w-wanna try. Y-yeah...I th-think I want," he whispered, his body still somewhat responding unwillingly to the friction.  


"What do you wanna try, baby?" I dreaded the answer as soon as I asked the question. Had the moment arrived?  


His pupils shifted anxiously. "T-to make l-love...for r-real. W-want you to show me h-how you d-do it well. D-dad told me...t-told me it f-feels good when...wh-when the two w-want and they l-love each other."  

I was petrified. "Are you _sure_ you want to, love? I need you to think about it well, you know you don't _have_ to, right? That I'll love you just the same even if we never do it?" I questioned, my own anxiety battling with the need. I rolled off him, interrupting the contact to clear up our thinking. We were now side by side, face to face, fingers entwined.  


"I...I kn-know." He nodded. "B-but I want, r-really. C-can we t-try it?"  


"Yes, but...promise you'll tell me if there's anything you don't like? I'll stop whenever you say, I don't mind."  


"P-promise." He showed me trust in his look and the nearly ethereal kiss given on my parted lips.

"Wait a minute." I sat up not before leaving one more souvenir on the side of his mouth. Opening the nightstand's drawer, I took out the tube of lube. It had been the first thing I put in there, knowing that I needed to be prepared _just in case_ , as Frankie had said.  


"Th-that's the l-lube?" he panted, stroking himself fast. 

I stopped his hand and laughed. "Yes it is, but hey! Don't get so enthusiastic or you'll ruin the fun too soon!"  


"Oh...k-kay." He chuckled, gripping the pillow tightly to stop the urge. 

I opened the lubricant, retrieved a generous amount which I smeared on my fingers and got closer to Frankie. "Ok baby, now separate your legs...flex your knees, good. Don't worry, I won't do anything too...weird yet. Sure you still want to?" again I verified.  


"Y-yep," Frank said. 

Sitting beside him, I reached down for another kiss as my cleaner hand caressed his chest, his stomach. It barely touched the awaiting part of him -making him curve his back- and proceeded towards his thigh to finally reach its destination. My lube covered fingertips met his entrance, just spreading the substance. Frankie jumped.  


"Are you ok?"  


"Y-yes but it's c-cold! Y-you...you're gonna p-put your f-fingers...inside n-now?" He propelled himself on his elbows to watch me. He was a funny view, naked and in such a situation but with the expression of a curious little kid.  


"Unless you wanna stop now, it's necessary. I don't want to hurt you," I insisted. It was better for him to think _me_ a pain in the ass than to end up with an unwanted one himself. I needed to have his approval before each step.

"N-no...do it. J-just...careful 'c-cause...'cause it's _m-my_ ass!" he warned me. His advise made me laugh and helped me loosen up.  


"I will, you relax." I lubricated my middle finger even more and allowed it to slid a little, finding resistance. With some difficulty I reached up and kissed Frank again, brushing his damp hair off his face.  


"Relax, don't...close it." I felt ridiculous saying that, but it would make sure he understood. His giggles told me that he did. 

As the digit disappeared inside of him, I stroked him with my other hand. Slowly, subtly, only to release some tension and distract him from the intrusion. I constantly observed his features.  


"Uh..." he complained, frowning and squirming uncomfortably.  


"Sorry love, does it hurt?" I got worried.  


"N-no...feels w-weird but..it's o-okay. I...it's g-getting better now."  


"Do I go on?" I moved the finger around, then in and out with delicacy.  


"Y-yes! K-kinda like it n-now..." He squeezed his eyes shut. 

I sensed myself throb at the sight but suppressed the yearning; both my hands were Frank's for the moment. He looked so sexy, so different.  


"I'm gonna try adding another finger now," I let him know. "If you need me to stop, say it right away."  


"Y-yeah..." be babbled, lost in pleasure. Yet, I was hesitant.  


Even though my fingers were practically bathed in lube -exaggeratedly so- Frankie's body seemed to reject the second invasion. I kept telling him to breathe deeply, to relax, to not think about it. I kissed him with desperate love, palm grazing his sweaty skin, offering comfort and speaking out my feelings. 

When the momentary sobs subsided and he assured me that he was fine, I tried to get back on what I'd abandoned half-way. However, as I pushed in more, Frankie screamed in panic -or pain- and I withdrew my fingers.  


"N-NO, STOP! S-stop stop p-please it _h-hurts_!"

"Shhh it's ok, Frankie. I stopped, I stopped." I lied down and held him, rubbing his back and kissing him. I was terrified myself and began to cry while a soothed him. "I'm s-sorry, are you ok?"  


"Y-yes I just...it h-hurt and...and I got s-scared. I c-can't, Gee. S-sorry," he apologized too. He was, however, calming down quickly as he realised that I _did_ stop, that the story wasn't repeating.  


"It's fine, I love you. I told you we didn't have to, look at me."  


"B-but...but..." He sniffed. "I...I w-wanted to..."  


"Do you wanna do it the other way round? I mean... _you_ make love to _me_? We could..." I proposed. After all, it's how it had aways been for me -only once in my life I had been on top- and I would do anything for Frankie. 

He didn't like the idea, though. "N-NO! N-no I don't w-want! D-dunno how and...and...m-my fingers...uh eww...n-no."  


"It's fine, babe, I just had to ask." I smiled.  


"S-sorry, I d-don't..."  


"Enough, you don't need to be sorry, forget about it and kiss me!" I jokily commanded, and his eyes smiled through the tears when he abided by my order.

The sweet kiss sent a sense of familiarity through all my body, that famous tickling sensation. Soon we were doing what we knew so well, and our hands sufficed. My arm and his arm crossed on their way to the other's territory, reaching out. Wrist twists, thrusts. Mouths connected as often as our continuous panting permitted, to finally give up and be content with staying forehead to forehead until we were done.

When our eyes opened again, welcomed by a matching somnolent stare, there was no remorse or resentment. It had been perfect, like always.


	60. Chapter 60

_But he saw the world_   
_through the eyes of a child,_   
_big problems seem smaller_   
_and old things seem new._   


I freaked out when I didn't see Frankie beside me on the bed, and it took me a moment to shake off my somnolence and remember that he couldn't have gotten out of the room. As additional confirmation, I enfolded my hand around the key that hung from my neck. 

With my senses coming back, I was able to hear Frank's voice -faint, rustling- and smell the acrid, unmistakable stench of morning urine.

Straining my ears, I could make out the words. "Shh...n-no he won't be m-mad. W-was an ac-acci-dent, yes. N-no, couldn't. H-he needs to s-sleep 'cause...'c-cause he has to w-work."   


I silently slid to the end of the mattress to spy over it. Just there in front of the bed, several paper sheets had been thrown over a yellowish puddle to absorb it. Frankie was on the floor, closely pressed against the door, talking and gesturing to it. He was still completely naked and shaking, skin covered in goosebumps and lips turning blue. I couldn't afford having the heater on the whole night, so the bedroom was usually very cold in the morning.

He smiled bemused when he saw me. "M-morning, Gee."   


"Baby...you're freezing, why didn't you put some clothes on?" I picked him up and walked him to the bed.  


"D-dunno. I...I g-got up and...and w-wanted to pee b-but didn't want to w-wake you. N-no, you n-need to sleep. H-he told me to b-but...I d-didn't want to. W-we were ar-arguing and...the pee es-escaped. Th-then uh...dunno. S-sorry..."  


"Don't be sorry, no problem. But next time just wake me up, ok?"   


"K-kay, lemme c-clean..." Frank tried to get up, but I pushed him back down.  


"No, no. I'll clean later, now I'm gonna get you dressed and you're going back to bed to warm up. I'll bring you your pills and breakfast in a while," I told him as I went for some boxers, a hoodie and sweatpants.

When I returned to his side and met his lips, I shuddered. They seemed made of ice, so different compared to the warmth that had been running through our veins the night before. Right now he was a shivering, embarrassed little kid.  


I thought of these difficult moments as heartbreaking, yet necessary. They kept happening once in a while to remind me that life wouldn't be easy, that our situation wasn't ideal or anything similar to most couples'. I was Frank's boyfriend, yes; but as much as that concept scared me, sometimes I _had_ to play the father role too. Even if Frank had his real dad now, I was still the one who spent the most time with him. However, what could have been a burden for many, was an honor for me. Something I didn't want to ever be exempted from.  


"G-gee?" he called me after I had tucked him in and added an extra blanket.

"What's it, Frankie?"  


"Y-you're not mad th-that...that I m-made you stop l-last night?" he asked. His pupils individually wandered around messily until setting on their usual spot, at the inner corners of his eyes.  


"Again with that, babe? You said you wanted to try, and we did. It doesn't matter if we didn't go on with it. I don't need us to actually make love, we don't _have_ to. Last night was wonderful, I loved it and I love _you_."  


Frank grinned. "M-me too, b-both things!"  


"I'm a thing?"  


"H-handsome thing! _M-my_ thing!" He gave me a quick hug and a kiss on my cheek, then buried himself back under the bedclothes.

*******

The rest of the week went by slowly and without surprises. Frankie appeared to have forgotten about our first attempt at sex. He was happy to just carry on with our usual way to demonstrate our love. Honestly, so was I. Maybe it was because I felt more comfortable with what was secure. I knew what Frankie liked, how far I could go, I knew I wouldn't hurt him. I didn't need to be permanently thinking, it allowed me to be relaxed and give myself in to the shared pleasure. I could definitely live with it.

Anthony phoned Frankie every day as he had promised, and they had really long conversations. I preferred to leave the room. Hearing Frankie tell his dad what we did together wasn't exactly pleasing. It wasn't a bad thing, though. I didn't want to hide anything from Tony, and hearing it all from his son was the best way to convince him and Greg that they hadn't been wrong when they accepted me as Frankie's boyfriend.  


The same I feel controlled from two fronts -three if you counted my mother, which kept me on edge. Grace had never stopped checking on Frankie either. Anyway, there was one more positive side to all of this: I could perceive from Frank's reactions while on the phone that both his father and his old nurse were satisfied with what he informed them and they had never reproached me about anything when talking to me.  


The new week did bring something special, since Tony would stay with Frank for the first time. It was, perhaps, this important occurrence that caused an impulse to grow on me. I had been postponing it for so long that I couldn't quite point out why I'd suddenly woken up that morning with the decision already made. I had yet to prepare breakfast, but instead I found myself dialing my mother's cellphone number.

"Gerard! Good morning, son. Why are you calling this early? Is there something wrong?" her alarmed voice welcomed me through the speaker, and I considered a change of plan. I _considered_ it but shrugged it off, I had to do what I intended to.  


"Uh...no mom, we're both fine, don't worry. Do you have time?"  


"Well yes, right now I'm at the hospital's cafeteria so..."  


"Ok..." I took a deep breath. "First of all please believe me when I say I didn't keep on investigating after I was shot, I didn't, I swear! I'd already found out the name of Frank's dad before that, but I never told you anything because there was no way to find him -I'll explain why later- so I forgot about it but then...then one day I saw that his band would be playing here in town and I know, I know you'll say I risked too much but I _had_ to go see him 'cause he couldn't live all his life thinking his son was dead!" I gasped for air after having puked out my words one after another.  


"Gerard you mean you...what?"  


"No, mom, let me finish or I never will," I cut her off. "I went to see Anthony -that's his name- and told him everything and he didn't believe me at first of course, but then he did when he realised how much I knew and fuck, mom! That guy has suffered so much! He thought he had his son's ashes in a damn box! And so we met again some other day and we talked a lot, and I consulted Goldberg about it and then Frankie met his dad without knowing he was his dad and only the next time we told him and yeah, things were a little hard but...but now everything's fine and Anthony's a good guy and they get along well and I promise we're doing things right so please don't be mad at me, mom. I know I should have told you but now there's _no_ reason to worry because everything's fine, ok?" I finished my monologue and hung up. I didn't dare hear what she thought of it all. I got scared. 

Right after that the telephone rang, but I ignored it.  


When Anthony arrived, I let him know that I had told my mother about him. He had been insisting for weeks that I ought to do it, that it was only fair since Frankie was like a son to her and she had the right to know about something so big.  


"What did she say?" he inquired, helping Frankie finish his breakfast. The boy had become much more docile throughout the months, although he was still slightly apprehensive to let any other person than me assist him when his hands gave him trouble to eat. It made him feel embarrassed. Even with Ray it depended on the day. But he hadn't argued when Tony sat on the next chair, took the spoon from him and began to feed him.  


"I didn't give her time to say anything, I just...hung up," I confessed. 

Tony let out an annoyed sigh. "You did _what_?"  


"I cowered, ok? I'll call her during my lunch break."  


"You _better_. It's your mother, Gerard!" he said.  


"M-my mom too, n-now. I w-want her to kn-know 'bout my d-dad, Gee," Frankie added, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.  


"Hey, don't be a pig, you have a napkin there!" I showed it to him. "And Donna knows already, don't worry."  


"Your boyfriend's a chicken, that's what happens," Iero told him, the two of them laughing at me. I deserved it.

 "So, Tony...things you need to know," I began with my seemingly neverending list of instructions, warnings, advices and any detail that I thought he needed to know for Frank to be safe with him. "...and please, _please_ even if he cries that he's hungry don't let him have snacks at any hour. It's not to be mean and I already told him that I don't care whether he's thinner, fatter or whatever. _The doctor_ said we need to watch what he eats a little more. There are some cereal bars on the top shelf to the right of the cupboard. If he gets too insistent, give him one of those or an apple. Cookies only later with his milk and..."  


"Gerard..." Anthony placed a hand over my mouth. "I know, we'll be fine. Now breathe, kiss Frankie, and leave already 'cause you're late. Geez, boy, I've never known anyone who talked this much!"  


"Well, I've been told the same thing way too many times..." I chuckled before properly -and physically- telling Frankie my 'see you later'.  


"Enough, enough for the occasion, boys!" Anthony made us separate our mouths with a pop. "No, don't give me that look, I'm not on protective dad mode...you're _really_ late, Gerard."  


"Ok, ok! Frankie, you..."  


"I kn-know... _behave_. G-go or...or S-sarah will kick y-your ass! I...I'll be g-good, yes." Frank nodded and dragged me towards the door, closing it behind me before I could have time to say more.  


The whole time at work I was utterly distracted. This was an important test for Anthony, and not only as a father. I actually had no doubt about him taking care of Frankie; he loved his son and would protect him with his life. It was the other, less obvious part of the test which worried me, the one that if not passed could be tragic for Frankie and me: the trust test. Did I trust Anthony enough to be certain that he wouldn't escape with Frank? Had I done the right thing leaving them alone? Without giving it much thought and only paying attention to my hunch, the answer to those questions had been an outright 'yes'. Now that the moment had arrived, that I would be out of home for eight hours, it was decidedly harder to keep the fears away. I had even left them the keys of the house just in case they needed to go out! What was I thinking? How could I have been so reckless?

To make things worse, my mother called and texted me practically every hour. I ignored everything coming from her number. How could I maintain my 'everything is alright' speech when I wasn't that sure myself anymore? I would have turned my phone off if that didn't disconnect me from home. I thought of calling Anthony and Frank to ask if everything was alright and put my mind at ease, but somehow I refrained. I needed to trust a little more.

******  


In spite of having seemed eternal, my work time did come to an end. Desperate to get home, I was going to catch a cab when I realised it was a stupid and pointless waste of money, all because of my rather unreasonable worries. Or weren't they unreasonable?  


About two blocks away from my house, what I spotted made me feel silly for torturing and frightening myself for so many hours. Across the street and heading home just like me, were Anthony and Frankie, walking hand in hand with huge smiles on their faces. 

As I watched them, I noticed how the man's chest seemed broader with pride, his eyes brighter with happiness, his voice softer with emotion while they pointed at trees or flowers and he told Frankie the names. He looked complete. 

Frank was as happy as he looked when with me; half walking, half skipping, balancing the plastic bag in his hand. There wasn't a single spark of jealousy in me because that was a different happiness, a different love that all of us needed and Frankie was only now discovering. He'd had some samples, people who had done all within their reach to offer something close to the love he didn't get from his mother, but he had never experienced _fatherly_ love.  


I wasn't going to disturb their moment, but Anthony saw me and waved in my direction. "Gerard! Pretending not to know us?" he joked. 

I crossed the street and Frankie ran to me, his arms soon hanging from my neck as we kissed.  


"How was your day?" I asked them, the three of us continuing on our way.  


"G-good! I...I h-helped him cook and...and we w-watched cartoons and d-drew and read a b-book. An-and then he t-took me to a t-toyshop and look!" He raised the bag. "H-he let me ch-choose whatever I w-wanted!"  


"I just...I know it's not necessary, but it's one of the things I'd always dreamed of doing with my son," Tony rushed to explain, maybe afraid that I would think he was somewhat buying his son's affection.  


"I know."  


"This boy's unbelievable, so concerned about others. He refused to pick more than one thing, he said he knew I didn't have much money, that toys weren't that important and he had a lot anyway." He kissed his son's head, once again losing his frequent battle against tears.  


"Yeah, I guess Grace did a great job raising him," I commented.  


"I bet you also did a lot during these months. Frankie had never known this kind of...personalized attention before, and it surely had to make a difference."  


"I like to think it did, he surely made a huge difference to me," I uttered.  


******  


Frank searched inside the bag once we were back home. "S-see what he b-bought me! S-so cute!" 

I was surprised that he had contained his excitement for so long. The chosen toy was an action figure of Donkey from Shrek. It was fairly big, covered in a plushy material and had every detail to make it identical to the original. Legs, head, and tail were articulated.  


"Oh wow, it's awesome!" I exclaimed. I was a sucker for those kind of toys too, and even nowadays I sometimes stopped by the toyshops' windows to drool at the action figures. "But Tony...these aren't exactly cheap."  


"Don't worry about it, I got an important site up some days ago and they paid more than usual. This was one of my prioritized investments at the moment," he declared with the seriousness of a business man.  


I shook my head. "You're hopeless, Anthony."   


"Yes, but aren't you too for this little gentleman here?"  


"M-me? A...a g-gentle-man?" Frankie laughed.  


"A mini-one," his father replied.  


"S-sounds like a s-superhero! H-here comes G-gentle-Man!" Frank jumped on my back and I would have fallen on my face if Anthony hadn't been there to keep me in place. "Oh...G-gee, mommy D-donna called. T-told me to tell y-you to c-call her. Uh...th-that sounded weird...b-but yeah."  


"Thanks, babe, I'll call her in a while."  


"You didn't yet?" Anthony frowned.  


"I...I did but she was busy, then I ran out of batteries," I lied.  


"Don't forget, please. I didn't want to talk to her until knowing that she approves of me, you know? I made Frank tell her that Ray was in the bathroom, but I hate lying to a worried mother..."

"I will, I swear I will."

I didn't. I didn't call my mother back that night or the following morning. I kept my cellphone off and ignored every phonecall coming from her house and even Mikey's cell -just in case she had told him. My brother's rage was worse to face than my mother's. Every elapsed minute I felt guiltier for not getting in touch, but at the same time more afraid of how they could react to my calling one day later. I knew I should do it more sooner than later, but I kept procrastinating. 

My mother was supposed to be working for the rest of that day, so I wasn't expecting what happened. I wasn't prepared and it was a real shock when I opened the door -back from the store- and found her comfortably sitting on the couch, drinking tea and eating cookies with Anthony and Frank.

"Gerard!" Tony was the first one to talk, and he didn't seem pleased. "You, sir, told me you'd called your mother and everything was fine. Then today she shows up deadly worried because you haven't answered her calls since _yesterday morning_! What were you thinking?"  


"I know...I'm sorry," I addressed him and then my mother. "I was scared, mom. I knew you'd be furious that I kept this from you and...I'll explain everything now."  


"It's not necessary, Anthony already did. I came here earlier hoping Ray would talk to me... _since you weren't_ ," she spoke angrily.  


"Y-yep! I h-helped dad tell her b-but..but th-then they t-told me to stay h-here and they w-went to the k-kitchen so d-dunno what they said th-there. B-but Donna wasn't so an-angry when they c-came back, n-nope." Frankie's report calmed me down a little bit.  


"And...what do you think, mom? Again, sorry but..."  


"Right now I'd slap you, or better spank you like when you were a little kid. I'm tired of you hiding things from us, son, _very_ tired. I understand you not wanting to tell _your father_ everything. You don't see him too often so it's reasonable that you wouldn't want to cause an argument when you have a chance to be with him. But what about me and your brother? What about your best friend? Are we not supportive enough? Are we so bad that you have to fear us?"  


"No...I don't know why I do it...I guess I'm afraid that you'll worry too much and keep me from doing what I need to do..." I whispered, holding Frankie as if he was my comfy teddy bear.  


"Look, Gerard; only one thing will save you from the humiliation of being spanked by your mother at 23, and it's that Anthony's a sweetheart. You know I have a sixth sense for this, and I've only perceived good intentions in this man. Besides, Frankie likes him very much so that's another great sign."  


"You're not mistaken," I agreed.  


"Do you wanna make me blush now?" Tony protested. "Isn't it enough with having me nearly dehydrated from so much crying?"  


*******  


It took my mother some days to go back to her usual lovely self with me. I let things follow their course because her anger had been justified.  


The following day, she spent some hours with Frankie and Tony again. According to her, it was to get to know Iero better, but her natural need to supervise sure had something to do with it. As much as mom had liked Anthony, she opined that I should have waited a little longer to let him stay alone with Frankie. She agreed, though, that it would have been too hard to tell him no when he had been the one to propose it. Therefore, she watching over them gave us both some peace of mind.

Frank felt totally comfortable with his dad. As far as I knew from my in-depth interrogations with Frankie, they hadn't encountered any major problem while spending time with each other. It also helped that the boy had been having some favorable weeks and was in a good mood most of the time. You never knew how much it would last, but it'd been suitable for Tony's first real experience as a father.

The fourth day Anthony asked if I was okay with Greg staying with them. Not without some reservations, I accepted. Tony loved him and had known him for years. He would never let anyone near Frank that he didn't completely trust, not even if that someone was his boyfriend.

******  


I had a nice surprise waiting for me when I left the store that afternoon. Anthony and Greg were there with Frankie -his hair neatly combed in a ponytail.  


"Hello!" I greeted them all and then hugged Frankie, not letting him kiss my lips since Sarah could be watching. "You look _so_ good, baby!"  


"D-dad tied my h-hair 'cause...'c-cause we're going to the p-park and s-said hair would b-bother me in...in the p-playground," Frankie informed me.  


"Oh, it's an invitation then?"  


"Yes...if you're not too tired." Anthony smiled, his eyes pleading more than Frankie's.  


"Not at all, let's go!"  


The park wasn't far, so we got there in no more than fifteen minutes. It had a well kept, big playground surrounded by green. Frankie and I had visited it once in a while and stayed until some annoying parent appeared. Idiotic as it sounded, there was always someone who complained that Frankie was too old to be there. 

Although conscious himself that other boys his age didn't go to those places, Frank couldn't help loving them and eying the play area enthralled every time we passed it by. Why should he be denied it? I told him to pay no mind to those comments, but they tended to bring him down and he'd end up asking me to leave.  


"S-slide first!" Frank shouted, freeing himself from our hands and running towards the device.  


"Oh, fuck." I darted after him, being closely followed by Anthony and Greg. 

Frankie fell down two times, but got up in seconds and resumed his race. Though habituated to the medication by now, he was anyhow clumsy for moments when it came to running. He didn't have great control of his body when moving faster.  


I caught him by the waist. "Frankie! How many times do I have to tell you to not run away on your own?"   


"S-sorry, got t-too happy." He smiled. "C-can I go now?"  


"Shouldn't someone go up with him just in case he gets dizzy or something?" Tony asked.  


"Yes, I always do that, another reason why he should have waited..." I glanced at Frankie reproachingly.  


"S-said I was _s-sorry_ , don't be a...p-pain in the ass, G-gerard! On-only got kinda d-dizzy there once, an-anyway!"  


"That's enough to be careful, kiddo," Anthony remarked. "You go with him, Gerard, since you're the second youngest one here."  


I climbed the ladder leading to the top of the slide behind Frankie, instructing him to wait until the kids before him were out of the way. He slid down laughing like one of them; his father standing on a side watchfully, ready to act if needed. He had developed my same concern about Frankie hitting his head. His brain was already weak and working with 'reduced equipment' -as Goldberg had once easily explained it. A new blow to the head could be more serious for him than it normally would for anybody. Our overprotection sometimes irritated Frankie, but he understood when presented the reasons.

After several repetitions, Frank went for the climbing structure. It wasn't one of those sophisticated, huge ones; just two tall, parallel iron arches crossed by bars and painted black and yellow.  


Greg and I sat on a near bench to enjoy the view of father and son spending time together. Anthony would lift Frankie so he could reach the top bars and then subtly hold him while the youngest Iero essayed his pirouettes. Soon, there were at least five children asking Anthony for help too. 

Things got more complicated when Frankie -together with the kids- decided to escalate the structure from the outside and cross to the other side of it. It resulted in Tony having to put everybody down when the improvised alpinists realised that they would end up head down and felt the vertigo. Finally, the children's parents suspiciously sneaked them out of there and Frankie said it wasn't fun anymore.  


While strolling around, chatting and laughing, we walked by a group of young boys showing off their bikes on the path that bordered the playground. They stopped to look at us and instantly threw a list of nasty epithets at Frankie; including the classic 'retard' and others like 'fatty weirdo' or 'four-eyed freak'. Anthony abstained from taking measures this time, just tightening the grip around his son's shoulders and kissing his forehead. I whispered to my boyfriend to not listen as he gave my hand a squeeze. Greg, instead, enforced his killing glare method and that was the end of the mockery.

******  


"T-tell someone to l-leave?" Frankie begged us in front of the swings which were all occupied.  


"We can't do that, son. You have to wait, that's what everybody does," Anthony answered.  


"B-but...but wh-what if they never g-get tired and we h-have to go?"  


"I don't think that will happen, and if it did then we'd come again some other day," I calmed him.  


"Sorry," a woman who was checking on her daughter said. "but to start with, he's too old to be here, so the least you can do is let all the real kids use the swings first."  


"Hey! I...I'm _r-real_ too, as..." My hand censured Frankie just in time.  


" _Sorry_ ," Anthony imitated the woman's bitter tone. "but I don't see any sign with an age limit here, so my son has the same rights as everybody else."  


"I don't think many parents would agree to that," she spat and gave her back to us.

A younger lady brought his little boy's swing to a halt and spoke in his ear. I paid attention, suspecting another similar discriminatory case, but I was proved wrong when the kid beckoned at Frankie. "You can have mine, I come here every day."  


"Th-thanks!" Frankie squealed, getting on his knees to kiss his benefactor's cheek. 

Frank's contagious, wide smile when he sat on the swing was mirrored by the young mother. She waved him goodbye and walked away with her son.  


The first odious woman and her daughter disappeared the moment Frank took his place beside them, and a slightly older girl made her appearance. She came speeding and shouting 'mine!' and gave her father -who was watching from afar- a thumbs up when she reached her goal. 

The girl studied Frankie, who was giggling and kicking his legs, being _moderately_ impulsed by Tony. "Hey, wanna race? But...you gotta go higher," she invited, treating him as if he was her age. 

Frank looked at her dumbfounded. "Uh...d-dunno if they'll l-let me."  


"Why?"  


"'C-cause I can f-fall," Frankie replied softly.  


"No you won't!" she insisted and then tugged at Tony's sleeve. "You're his dad, aren't you?"  


"Yes."  


"Can he swing higher?"  


"Let's see..." Iero stood in front of his son."...show me your hands."  


Frank raised them. "Th-they're fine."   


"Ok. Just for a while, and you have to hold yourself _very_ tightly. If you don't feel fine scream and I'll stop you, ok?"  


"K-kay." He nodded. 

Anthony drove the swing as far back as his arms permitted and released it.  


The girl stared at Frank with her hands on her hips. "No, that's against the rules! You have to do it yourself!"   


"I d-don't know how..." Frankie expressed timidly. "W-was never al-allowed on swings m-much."  


"Oh..." She bit her lip, pensive and a little sad. "...no problem, you're very cute so I'll teach you how, ok? What's your name?"  


"F-frankie," he responded, flushed.  


"I'm Mel." She offered her hand and Frankie shook it, smiling again. "So, copy what I'll do."  


"K-kay."  


Mel was a good, patient teacher and Frankie eventually got the handle of it. From then on they swung higher and higher, screaming for the sake of it. 

Suddenly, Frankie went silent for some seconds until he yelled again, only this time he asked for help. "S-STOP, STOP IT OR I'M G-GONNA PUKE!"  


Greg used his strength to trap the wooden seat at mid flight. "Here you are. You ok, Frankie?"  


"Y-yeah, think s-so." He breathed deeply. "J-just...got d-dizzy and th-though I'd puke but not an-anymore."  


"We better go sit for a while." I took his hand and moved him off the swing.  


"Y-yeah. B-bye, Mel! Th-thank you for b-being so nice to m-me."  


"Welcome! Bye Frankie, hope to see you again." It was Frank who received the kiss this time, Mel tiptoeing to reach him.

I prodded Frank. "You got yourself a little girlfriend, now?"  


"Wh-what? N-NO! I...I d-don't like g-girls that way and...and she's on-only _little_ , you d-dumb!" He shoved me, truly offended.  


"Frankie...it was a joke, baby!"  


"I d-don't like those j-jokes. _Y-you_ are my b-boyfriend, Gee! Y-you and n-no one else!" He sniffed.  


"I know love, I'm sorry. I'm happy that you made a friend, though." I held him until he relaxed, which told me he had forgiven me.  


"C-can I have c-cotton candy?"  


"We all will!" Anthony declared. "You two stay here, Greg and I will go get them."

We sat on the bench and talked about how much fun we had, while watching the sun that was beginning to set. The light blue of the sky was mixed with pink and yellow, and there were no clouds in sight. It had been a rather warm day, although the increasing cold wind reminded us that it was fall, and night wouldn't take long to come.

Someone coughed at our back, making us both turn our heads. The person wasn't there anymore, but I could distinguish the side of a sadly familiar face as the guy quickened his steps.  


"Fucking stalker..." I mumbled.  


"Wh-what?"  


"Nothing, Frankie, don't mind me. Look, here come our cotton candies!" I pushed Gabriel out of my thoughts, I wouldn't let him ruin that day.  


"You know," Tony started after handing us the sweets. "we scheduled a couple of shows this week 'cause they're at a close city. The guys are checking one of the places right now, and I was thinking that maybe it's a good opportunity for Frankie to meet them?"  


"Y-yes!" He jumped. "B-but only if y-you don't play l-loud, kay?"  


"Do we have to go by bus?" I asked out of curiosity.  


"Yes...it's less than twenty minutes from here, though. The van's there so we'll drive you home later."  


"Y-yes please, G-gee! Th-the bus and the b-band and the v-van! I l-like!" 

Frankie's enthusiasm was enough of an answer, and I was also willing to meet those guys properly. They were, in a way, Anthony's family; so we would be seeing them a lot in the future.


	61. Chapter 61

_Oh! I'm playing in a traveling band,  
playing in a traveling band.  
Won't you get me, take me hand,  
well, I'm playing in a traveling band._

The cotton candy had the feared effect: Frankie was undeniably high on sugar by the time we arrived at the bus stop. In only ten minutes of wait he talked non-stop, jumped around singing a made-up song about the day's events, and ran off at least three times chasing whatever he had seen; the last almost stepping into the traffic. We tried to keep a grip on him, but he'd always find a way to free himself. When the bus appeared in the distance I noticed it was just the three of us there waiting, the rest of people having given up and left annoyed.

"Wh-why they left b-before the bus c-came?" Frankie frowned, only then realising that his audience had been drastically reduced.  


"Because the bus was taking too long, they got tired of waiting," Anthony lied.  


"N-no it didn't t-take long," Frank argued.  


"They'd been here longer than us," I justified.  


"S-some weren't. N-nope, so _wh-why_ they left?" he went on. Thankfully for us, something became more important than his doubt. "B-bus!"  


"No, wait!" I screamed after Frank who had already stepped on the vehicle.  


"Go with him, I'll pay," Tony said.

The bus was fairly full, the only available seat being the long one at the back, though both far sides were occupied.  


Frank stood stubbornly in front of the line of seats with his arms crossed on his chest. "I...I w-want by the w-window."   


"They're taken, come sit here." I dragged him down with me. He got up again. "Frankie..."  


"I w-want by th-the window," he repeated louder. "I...I l-like it better, wanna s-see."  


"What's wrong, son? Sit down, this is gonna start moving." Anthony gently pushed him into a seat, only to have him hop out anew.  


"I...w-wanna...seat...by...th-the...damn...w-window," Frank spat out each word angrily, causing everybody to turn and snoop at us.  


"They're all taken, Frankie, it's a short ride anyway," his father whispered, he and Greg holding my boyfriend down in between them as he struggled.  


"L-LEMME GO! IF...IF I C-CAN'T HAVE THE W-WINDOW THEN...THEN I W-WON'T SIT!"  


"Frankie, stop it!" I scolded him, attracting more beholders.  


"SH-SHUT UP, I W-WANT THE W-WINDOW!" he screamed with all his might. Being tired and pumped up with sugar at the same time wasn't a good combination for him.  


When the bus hit the next stop, a woman sitting on one of the greatly valued locations shot us an aggravated look and got off. "The things one has to put up with..."  


"W-WINDOW!" Frank didn't bother to do things the long way. To reach the wanted location, he opted for moving along my and Tony's laps on all fours. "Y-yay, so m-much better!"  


"Ugh! I don't think Frankie will have any siblings..." Anthony groaned, doubled over. I was luckier, since only my legs had been slightly crushed.  


"Well, I can't get pregnant anyway, as far as I know," Greg chuckled. "But if you can then we still have chances, my package is intact."  


"Don't laugh, it _hurts_..." Iero hissed.  


"If we were home I'd kiss it better." His partner blinked in a seductive fashion.  


"Guys, everybody's hearing you..." I mumbled from the side of my mouth.  


"Sorry..." Greg apologized, though sporadic laughter kept assaulting him.  


"O-open it?" Frank pointed at the window, hitting it with his palm.  


"No I won't, it's dangerous and it's cold outside. You already got what you wanted, stop giving orders!" I told him firmly.  


He launched himself across me and shook Anthony. "D-dad! O-open it open it o-open it?"   


"Nope, stay quiet."  


"See that little kid there?" I signaled. Frankie followed my finger. "He must be no more than 5, and I don't see him crying over a window."  


"W-well, 'cause he...h-he's a boring n-normal kid!" Frank retorted.  


"Oh come on, son! You're a smart boy, you _know_ you're being annoying," Tony tried to reason with him. 

It was evident that Frankie was taking advantage of his condition to have his way. He owned that kind of smartness little kids have, when they'll try to win you over by being a nuisance until you give in. He usually succeeded with me, I found it too hard to tell him 'no'.  


"B-but _why_ you c-can't open my w-window? I...I'll d-do it myself, th-then!" He pulled at the knob.  


"Frank! Stop that and stay quiet or I'm taking you back home _now_!" It was the first time I'd witnessed Anthony seriously reprimanding his son. His tone wasn't that harsh and the irritation hadn't quite reached his face, but it was enough to make Frankie shut up, freeze, and lower his hands.  


"O-okay, y-you're all _so_ m-mean."

The dispute had been as long as the ride, so two minutes after Frank finally abandoned his capriciousness -though he still remained restless in his seat- we were off the bus.

Only one block separated us from our destination. On the way, Anthony told Frankie not to mention anything about his relationship with me to his band mates. It was a subject Iero wanted to address himself later.

******  


The bar was a small, old building that had been recycled and modernized. The outer walls were painted champagne and the two ample, shutterless windows framed with maroon. 

Anthony waved at a man who stood at the other side of the glassed door, and when he opened it to let us in we could hear Tony's mates jamming. Frankie stopped dead and resisted.  


"N-no..."  


"Listen," Anthony placed both hands on his scared son's shoulders and bent down to look him in the eye. "what about you give it a try? If you think it's too loud just tell me and I'll make them stop, ok?"  


"K-kay..." Frank agreed but covered his ears nonetheless, being held close by Tony as we crossed the entrance.

Even if the night had fallen by then, the place wasn't open for the clientele. It was dark inside, with all the main lights off for the band to check the stage illumination; so I couldn't discern very well how it was decorated.  


I observed that Anthony wasn't looking at the front while he dodged tables. Instead he kept his eyes on his son, studying his reactions. I walked next to them. So far, Frankie had allowed his dad to guide him towards the stage, but as we got closer he began to whimper. 

I neared my ear to hear what he was saying. "T-too loud...p-please tell them t-to stop...p-please."  


"It's fine, don't worry." Anthony didn't need to ask for the music to cease, because right at that moment his friends spotted us.  


"Hi there! Wait a minute..." The singer -whose name I had forgotten- rushed to the back of the place and turned on the lights. 

Frankie seemed instantly relieved and started to pry around with great interest.  


All the guys came down the stage and, ignoring me, they went straight to Frankie, surrounding him speechless. Anthony was about to say something, but the bassist beat him to it. "Oh my God! He's Frankie, right?"  


"Aha." Tony nodded full of pride, smirking because he knew what they were thinking.  


"Hi! Y-yes I'm F-frankie," he said cheerly and shook each of their hands.  


"Man, Tony, you don't need any DNA test...he's a young version of you!" the singer commented.  


"Hey! You mean _younger_ , I'm not old!" The mentioned playfully smacked his friend's head. "You might be the benjamin of the band, but I only come in second place."  


"Wow..." The guy of the sax's mouth was still wide open in amazement. "...do you have your reading glasses at hand, Tony?"  


"Yep." He took a pair of black rimmed glasses -only slightly thinner and smaller than Frank's- out of the front pocket of his jacket and put them on. 

I had never seen him with glasses and couldn't believe how identical to Frankie he looked. We all let out surprised exclamations and Frankie just grinned. He must have seen his father like that before and was conscious of the similarity.  


"Now I want you all to meet Gerard." With eyes full of tears, Anthony subtly pushed me ahead. I had been acting shy, intimidated for some reason. "He's the boy who found Frankie and took care of him, and also who looked for me to tell me about my son. Thanks to Gerard, Frankie and I are together again."  


Frankie hugged me and kissed my cheek. "G-gee's the best!"  

I ruffled his hair brotherly and smiled, letting him go to shake everybody's hands. I hated having to pretend, but I knew how some people could react to the truth and I didn't want to expose Frankie to that.  


All of Anthony's friends greeted me more or less nicely, specially Paul who thanked me and remarked the importance of what I had done for their guitarist. "Tony's been a new person since you came into his life with such news," he said. 

I thought I heard someone murmur under their breath, although I wasn't certain of who it had been or if it had even happened at all, so I let it pass.  


"Frankie, Gerard...let me introduce these guys who are not only my band mates, but my friends and family as well," Anthony announced. 

It was a good chance for me to look at them better and match names with faces. The previous time I'd been too nervous, too busy staring at Anthony and figuring out how I would word what I needed to tell him.  


"Y-yes, I wanna kn-know everybody's n-names!" Frankie encouraged.

"This is Jake: voice and harmonica and -as you already heard- youngest member of the band."  


"Please to meet you, Iero junior and Gerard," the extremely thin and shortish guy politely expressed. His eyes were black and penetrating and he appeared to be a cool, joyful young man.  


"W-wow, you h-hair's so much l-longer than mine and G-gerard's, I l-like it!" Frank touched Jake's black mane that reached to the middle of his back.

"Then we have our bassist Paul..." Anthony pointed at the tallest of them all, an odd individual with small, rounded green eyes and a prominent nose.  


"Happy to finally meet you! Anthony talks _a lot_ about you, Frankie, you're famous among the band!" He shook Frank's hand for the second time and his crazy, pointy brown hair oscillated. His look perfectly suited what I had perceived from his personality. "You too, Gerard!"  


"Y-you...you're f-funny!" Frankie giggled.  


"Frankie!" I whispered to him, afraid that the musician might take the comment wrong.  


"Wh-what I did, now?"  


"You did nothing, don't worry," Paul answered Frankie after muttering an 'it's ok' to me. "You're funny too, it's cool to be funny, don't you think?"  


"Y-yes, I th-think it is!"

"Next is our red-haired sax player, Trevor." Tony straightened the man's short curls, which quickly regained their spiraled shape when released. Trevor's eyes reminded me of Bob's. They were of that bright light blue that made it impossible not to look at them. He was also paler than me and had a big, full mouth. "He's like the father of the band."  


"Yeah, that's me...though I'm not as old as Tony makes it sound," he told us.  


"Y-you don't l-look too old. H-how old?" Frank asked.  


"45."  


"Uh...th-then you _are_ o-old!" the boy opined, bringing up general laughter.  


"Don't confess your age in front of Frankie if your self-esteem is low, we're all _ancient_ according to him. Don't take it personally," Greg spoke for the first time since we had entered the bar. He'd let Anthony do all the talking, knowing too well how good his boyfriend was to socialize.  


"No problem!" Trevor indicated, still laughing. "I _am_ old compared to him!"

"And last but not least it's Victor, the piano man!" Iero's enthusiastic introduction didn't impress the immutable chubby man. I realized I hadn't heard his voice yet, not even when we shook hands had he said anything. I found his seriousness out of place in that band, and his middle length hair -which was combed back with gel- only intensified his strong features.  


"Hi, Frankie." Victor smiled shortly at him, then quickly retreated to his previous spot apart from us all. His grave tone let me know that it had been him who mumbled something before. 

I sent Anthony a questioning look and he just shrugged, giving me the impression that he was as disconcerted as I was about Trevor's behavior. Maybe the man was just having a bad day?  


Being over with the introductions, the band gathered around Frankie, talking to him and asking many questions. Like me, Paul noticed that Frank was a little lost and not knowing where to look at.  


"Let's do something for you to see us all better..." The bassist lifted and deposited him on the edge of the stage. "Uff! Gerard feeds you well, doesn't him?"  


"Sh-shut up! N-not my fault th-that I'm fat!"  


Anthony grimaced. "Uh, Paul...I don't think that comment was a good idea."   


"Oh, sorry. Self esteem problems?"  


"Only sometimes, but better to avoid it," I said.  


"I didn't mean you were fat, kid, really. I shouldn't have said that, forgive me?" Paul pushed Frank's face up with a finger.  


"Y-yeah, l-let's keep t-talking. I...I w-wanna tell you what we d-did today 'cause...'c-cause it was s-super awesome!" He clapped hands and hit the wooden front of the stage with his sneakers, too excited to keep grudges.  


For a long time the men listened to Frank relate his anecdotes with pompous hand gestures. My silent observation served me to discern the different reactions Frankie provoked. While Paul was genuinely absorbed into Frank's geniality and interacted with him all the time, Trevor displayed a non-intentional degree of discomfort. He kept on fidgeting and looking away every now and then. Jake was, undoubtedly, amused by Frank's talkativeness; but I recognized the pity in his eyes, the compassionate smile on his lips. Victor was simply unreadable.

At some point the guys decided to come up with an interview-act, with Frank as their special guest. The boy played along happily, talking about his likes and dislikes and obviously enjoying the fact that he was the star. However, he eventually got bored of it. He began to find it hard to stay quiet and pay attention, longingly eying the instruments. It didn't help that he was supposed to take his meds and I didn't have them with me.

Crawling from side to side of the stage due to uncontrollable spare energy, Frank suddenly looked back at his father's friends. "Y-you have k-kids?"  


Jake was the first one to answer. "Yes, a 14 year-old boy named Daniel, he sometimes travels with us during summer holidays."  


"C-cool!"  


"Oh, and he likes punk rock just like you. I learned a lot of punk songs thanks to him, even if it's not the kind of music I've always listened to," the singer pointed out.  


"He's a great kid, I'm sure you'll meet him some day," Greg said as he joined Frank on the stage, presumably tired after our outing.  


"Y-yes, I w-want to!" Frank loved the idea, he was always willing to make friends.  


"Next time he's with me and we're not too far from where you live, I'll tell Tony to bring you over," Jake promised, avoiding Frank's eyes. It seemed like he would cry if he met them.  


"K-kay!"  


"Trevor has a daughter..." Anthony patted the man's back, inciting more conversation to help his mates feel more at ease with his son. I knew he _needed_ them to.  


"Yep, she's 16."  


"Wh-what's her n-name?" Frank inquired.  


"Lily."  


"I think you should introduce her to Frankie." Paul winked, chuckling.  


"Hey! _I_ am the father!" Trevor protested. "Don't go handing my baby over!"  


"Oh come on, Trev! Your _baby_ -as you call her- is old enough. And look at this cuteness here!" Paul grabbed Frank's face, talking to him now. "Lily is very pretty and sweet, I'm sure you'd like her. You'd look good together..."  


"N-NO!" Frank shouted, four pairs of eyes set on him, startled. Not Tony's, Greg's or mine, who perfectly knew what was up with him.  


"See? The boy doesn't want a girlfriend, Trevor retorted.  


"N-no 'cause I...I d-don't like girls, n-nope. I l-like _boys,_ " Frankie explained, gaining another round of perplexed gazes.  


"Aww!" Paul cried out. "Just like his dad! You're like photocopies!"  


Tony blushed. "Guys, don't be silly, it's just a coincidence!"   


"Isn't it cute?" Jake concurred.  


"I don't find it _cute_ when I have to see Anthony and Greg eating each other's faces," Victor grunted. I really hoped he was only having a bad day, because I was liking him less and less.  


"Shut the fuck up!" Jake hit him in the head. "What do you care?"  


" _You_ shut up, I have the right to think differently."  


"How about you _both_ stop it?" Trevor pushed them away from each other before things got worse. "And you, Victor...are you homophobic now or what?"  


"No I'm not. I just...don't appreciate PDAs," he stressed his words with annoyance.  


"That's because you have no one to snuggle with!" Paul pressed, laughing. He was the buffoon of the band.  


"L-like Ray!" Frankie giggled.  


"Who's Ray?" Trevor questioned.  


"My best friend," I replied. "He complains about PDAs too, and I always tell him that's because he desperately needs a girl."  


"Exactly like Vic!" Jake assented. 

Victor's eyes threw daggers at me. He was far more menacing than Greg, and the reason why I had barely talked since we got there. I felt like the guy _knew_ ; he knew everything and didn't like it.  


"Do you have a boyfriend, Frankie?" Paul interrogated him at the worst moment, just when the pianist was about to kill me with the power of his mind.

Frankie lied down on the stage, meditative, doubting between what we had asked him to do and his usual urge to declare our love. "N-no I don't," he uttered, not turning out convincing in the slightest.  


"Uh...Tony? I'm afraid your kid's hiding a boyfriend from you," Paul concluded.  


"N-NO!"  


"You think?" Anthony played the fool.  


"Yes. Does he go to school?"  


"N-no, n-never went to s-school. I...I l-lived in a place for s-special people and...and I c-couldn't get out to g-go to real school. Th-they teached me s-something there but...d-didn't learn much and n-now I think I'm t-too old for s-school," Frankie said, scratching his head. 

My eyes fell on Anthony who was also looking at me. Frank had never hinted about actually _wanting_ to go to school before.  


"No, you're not too old, we'll see about that." Tony kissed his cheek. Frankie didn't reply, just smiled big as he continued to move around aimlessly. "You feel okay, son?"  


"Y-yeah..." Frank stared at the instruments again and this time he couldn't stop himself. He ran to them and walked in circles, not knowing which one to choose first. The boyfriend subject had been left behind and I was glad for it, I wasn't ready to be judged by four people.  


"Oh no, not the piano!" Victor exclaimed seeing that Frankie had made up his mind for said instrument -which belonged to the bar, to start with. "He's gonna fuck it up!"  


"What's wrong with you today?" Anthony confronted him, tired of his hostility. "I know you're not exactly fond of or patient with kids, but you're never a jerk. He's my son, Vic, you know the story!"  


"I know, I know. Sorry, I just...I don't know how to..." he rambled. "I'm not used to being around...special people."  


"I understand, I know it's not easy for everybody. You don't have to do anything in particular, just talk to him as you would to any person and at least be a little nicer!" Tony raised his voice. 

Frank was beating up the keys so hard that we couldn't hear ourselves. He was fine with that noise because _he_ controlled it.  


"I'll try, I promise." Victor still sounded troubled. 

I kept my back to them to dissimulate, yet my ears were attentive .  


"Are you sure it's only that, Victor? Isn't there something else bothering you? Stop glancing at the damn piano, man! It's not yours and it's already old and fucked up, come on!" Tony paused and I turned my head slightly to spy him. He'd gotten lost watching Frankie pound the piano and headbang, the biggest smile painted on his face.  


"It's nothing, Tony, we'll talk later." Victor patted his shoulder and walked away.  


Frankie's enthusiasm for the piano didn't last. After abandoning it and prancing among the instruments that were scattered on the floor, he picked up the sax. He blew it once and again, failing to get more than a stifled faint sound out of it. Red faced he sat down feeling giddy.  


I climbed the stage. "Are you ok, Frankie?"   


"Y-yes, but it d-doesn't work."  


"Want me to teach you?" Trevor offered kneeling beside us.  


"N-no, it...it m-makes my head h-hurt," Frank responded. "G-greg! T-teach me to p-play drums?"  


I checked my watch. "Frankie, I think we should be going now..."   


"N-NO! J-just a little m-more, kay?" he stated more than begged. "G-greg...teach me?"  


"Of course!" He followed Frank to the drum set, handed him the sticks, and stood behind the boy as he sat on the stool.  


The drumming lesson lasted the same as Frank's attention span -not much in such circumstances- but he did decidedly better than with the piano. Next, he told Jake that he wanted to sing. 

The man set up the microphone, eying a very eager Frankie skeptically. "Can he sing? I..." he spoke to me, searching for the correct words. "...don't mean if he's good or bad, I'm saying because of...how he speaks?"  


"I...I c-can!" Frankie interjected. "D-don't get s-stuck when I s-sing, I'll sh-show you!"  


"It's true, I have no idea why and as far as I know no one's really sure, but many speech impediments are not noticeable while singing," I lectured.  


"I'd actually heard of that, but didn't know it was a fact," Jake said into the mic, testing it. "Sorry for my ignorance, Frankie. What do you wanna sing?"  


"S-something by Green D-day or...or Offspring?"  


"Ok! My kid likes them, so I know some. You start with a song and I'll join you if I remember it. If I don't, you go on by yourself."  


"G-good!"  


Anthony, I, and even Greg practically drooled listening to Frankie sing and seeing him so happy. His voice was nasal and childish, but he had rhythm and could sing in tune. 

After two or three songs -for moments sharing the mic with Jake, for moments going solo- he had gotten worked up and was screaming and jumping around his partner. Jake stood there watching the spectacle and laughing his ass off the same as the rest of the guys, including Victor.  


"K-kay, got t-tired," Frankie informed us, dropping the microphone in the middle of 'Pretty fly for a white guy'. He went back to pacing the stage, now also whispering to himself and rubbing his head with both hands. "N-no, no m-more. Shh! N-no...said I'm t-tired, you're d-deaf? I...I d-don't wanna talk to y-you, why you h-have to talk to m-me, uh? Sh-shut up, shut up, sh-shut up..."  


"What...?" Paul eyed Tony confusedly. "He's not talking to us, is he?"  


"No, he sometimes hears a voice in his head," Anthony explicated.  


"He should have taken his meds like an hour ago, but I didn't know we'd be out for so long and didn't bring them with me. I guess what makes it worse is that he's tired and had too much sugar," I noted.  


Anthony approached Frankie and hugged him, leisurely running his fingers through his son's hair. Frank said some more things that I couldn't decipher and growled annoyed, like he always did when he couldn't cope with his thoughts and didn't know what he wanted anymore.  


"Come on, I better take you home," Tony suggested.  


"N-no, I w-wanna stay."  


"You can see the guys and play some other day, now you need to take your meds and rest."  


"B-but...but n-no...not y-yet, dad, no." Frankie sniffed.  


"Ok, stubborn. Last thing and then we leave, 'cause I know you're not feeling well." 

Iero sat on the floor and made Frank sit on his crossed legs, adopting the same position. Then he took his guitar and placed it on the boy's lap, passing the strap over his head just to get it out of the way. We occupied a table, watching in silence.  


"I'm gonna accommodate your fingers on the fret -the neck of the guitar; so leave them where I put them, ok?" Tony instructed.  


"K-kay."  


"Now...have this pick and give me your hand. Loosen it up, I'll guide it." 

Anthony moved his son's hand and when the pick first touched the strings, Frank's eyes went wide and both shuddered like it had happened the first time they met. The exhausted smile on Frank's lips lingered on while he relaxed in his father's arms. With closed eyes he listened to the simple melody, felt the music being played through his body. He was too drained to try to learn something out of it, he was just enjoying what I knew was a significant moment for him. For both, seeing as Tony's eyes weren't on the guitar but on his son's peaceful face.  


The private, meaningful musical piece came to an end and Frankie didn't argue when Anthony left the guitar aside and held him. 

"What did you think?"  


 "I...I l-like drums better 'c-cause guitar's too h-hard and my h-hands are dumb, b-but...but liked p-playing with you a l-lot." Frank kissed his father's cheek. "C-can we do it at h-home some other d-day?"  


"Whenever you want. I'll bring a guitar with me _every day_."  


"Y-yay! Oh...f-fuck! M-music stopped and...and he's t-talking again. T-talking and talking an-and fuck!" Frank cursed, hitting his head.  


"Home, meds, and sleep for you. _Now_!"  


"K-kay, and _dinner_. Y-you forgot d-dinner," he corrected.  


"Ok: home, meds, _dinner_ and sleep. But you say bye to the boys now," I butted in, helping Frank off the stage.  


Frankie kissed everybody's cheeks goodbye, letting them know that he'd had lots of fun and wanted to visit them again soon. The guys said they would _demand_ that Anthony brought him more often.  


"Are you gonna come see us play tomorrow?" Victor asked him, doing his best to at least exchange a few words. He smiled at Frank but barely looked at me.  


"N-no...no I c-can't. S-sorry..."  


"He doesn't like places with many people and much noise," Anthony excused him. "Live music's too loud for him."  


"Oh, ok. Maybe we can present an exclusive acoustic show for your kid some day?" the pianist proposed.  


"That's a great idea!" I threw in, attempting to get his attention. I didn't succeed.  


Anthony beamed child-like. "Yes, we'll do that!" 

Frankie was in his own world, moving his lips and nodding to the air; so I grabbed his hand, motioned for Anthony to hurry up and we left without any more delay.

I traveled in the back of the van with Frankie, having him wrapped up in a blanket as Tony had advised. He sometimes reminded me of my mother too much, which I guessed was good for his son. 

Frank wouldn't stop twisting in my arms and he couldn't sleep even though he needed it, so we constantly talked to him to distract him from the voice and the general chaos inside his head. 

It had been a very special day for Frank, and the way he talked about it demonstrated it. He understood how important those four guys were for Anthony, and having been introduced to them had brought him close to his father. Frankie felt that he had a real place in his dad's life. The abandoned, messed up kid who had never had a family was now a part of _two_. No other feeling could compare to that.  


"Th-they're like...m-my uncles?" he referred to the band.  


"Yes, uncles sounds good, and I think they'd like that title!" Tony laughed, overflown with happiness.  


"V-victor too? I...I th-think he doesn't l-like me."  


"It's not that, he was just in a bad mood today," Greg told him. "I'm sure he liked you."  


"Ahh...k-kay. I...n-no...that I...I d-dunno. Gee?" He glanced at me, unfocused.  


"Yes, baby?"  


"I...w-wanna go h-home," he cried, his nails puncturing my arms.  


I hid the pain, kissing him and massaging his neck to try and help him relax. "We'll be home in a few minutes, love."   


"N-now..."  


"Almost there, son. Close your eyes and try not to think of anything." Anthony's tone was more preoccupied now. "How are you, Gerard? You hardly spoke there, which is weird for you."  


"Oh, I'm fine. I thought it was Frankie's moment and besides, are you sure Victor doesn't know about me and Frankie? The way he looked at me..."  


"Well, I never told him, but I understand why you'd think that, he _was_ acting weird. Look...I'll talk to the guys after I leave you and Frankie home, and tomorrow I'll let you know. Don't worry, you have my support and no one will make me change my mind."  


"Ok, thanks." 

His answer didn't leave me any less concerned. I was tired of being under the magnifying glass, suspected, doubted. I didn't want Anthony to have an argument with his friends because of us. I just wanted people to understand that Frankie could and had the _right_ to love and be loved, and I wasn't a monster for giving him -and myself- the chance. 


	62. Teh Lego Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you see in the chapter's title is an intentional typo. I was joking with a friend and the chapter ended up being called that. xD You'll know the reason after reading.

_I don't care if Monday's black,_   
_Tuesday, Wednesday - heart attack._   
_Thursday, never looking back,_   
_it's Friday, I'm in love._

As hard as it was for Anthony to bid his son goodbye, he and Greg had to leave right away after they dropped us home. They were going to play the following night and some actual rehearsal with the whole band was needed.  


The first thing I did when we entered the house was give Frankie his meds and call for pizza. It was late and he was too agitated and confused to leave him alone and go cook, so I lied down with him waiting for the medication to kick in and our meal to arrive. 

Frank switched positions and talked a lot -mostly incoherently, though he did make sense for moments when he spoke happily about his dad and the band. He screamed at the voice in his head, bitched at the gnomes who made too much noise and even got up and walked around the room a couple of times. Finally, he curled up in my arms and allowed me to play with his hair while I whispered random things to soothe him. He was soon profoundly asleep.  


After such an active day, I didn't think he'd wake up until the following morning. I was wrong. Sure, he didn't hear the doorbell or me getting up to answer and get the pizza; but when I poked his side and mentioned dinner -I knew he'd kill me if I didn't at least try- he quickly sat up saying he was hungry. He could hardly keep his eyes open and even less hold a slice of pizza without it falling, yet he was perfectly able to chew and swallow what I fed him. By the end of the third slice, he lied back on the couch and instantly passed out.

******  


I was purposely silent in the morning when I left the bed, Frankie needed all the sleep he could get. He didn't like to wake up and find out I wasn't home, but I was sure Anthony would easily manage to chase his anger away.  


Iero knew how nervous that last day's meeting had made me, and that I would go crazy if I had to wait until being back from work to know what the guys had thought of me. For that reason, he'd promised to be around earlier than usual so we could talk before I left.  


I texted and asked him to text me back when he arrived instead of ringing the doorbell, to which Tony replied 'I'm already here'. I quickly opened the door and invited him to follow me around the house while I executed my morning routine.  


"Frank's still sleeping?" he asked.  


"Yeah, he was so tired last night that I didn't dare wake him. You might have to put up with a little tantrum later, though," I replied while standing in front of the toilet, raising my voice just a little over the gush of pee. 

I heard him chuckle. "Why?"  


"He oesn ike me doo div weeout ellin hem." I mumbled with the toothbrush in my mouth. 

The bathroom door was pushed open to reveal a very amused Anthony leaning on the frame. "Come again?"  


"ah haid..." I gave up and spat the paste in the sink upon seeing him roll his eyes. "...that Frankie doesn't like me to leave without telling him."  


"Ahhh, now I get it!" Tony nodded. "Don't worry, I'll explain it to him and say you left kisses and hugs."  


"Thanks." I walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where I had previously disposed the pile of clothes I'd wear, hanging not too neatly from a chair. As I began to get dressed, I threw Tony a decided, yet scared look, prompting him. "Well, tell me what they said."  


"No one's gonna start a pyre for you, Gerard. Spare yourself the tragedy face." He was now straight out laughing as he grabbed the burner, set the already filled kettle on a stovetop and turned the knob. "Coffee?"  


"No I...I'll be late if..."  


"I'll take that as a yes." He continued with his task. I didn't know if his tranquility should calm me down or make me more nervous.  


"They were all _captivated_ by Frankie..." he started, as if to torture me. Of course they'd love _Frankie_. "...and they had a lot of fun with him. Some of them confessed that they were a little unsure about how to treat him, but I guess that's normal. They'll feel more comfortable next time, I'm sure."  


"Yeah, my brother has that problem. Frank makes him a little...uneasy, he has no experience with special people or even kids. But things have gotten better with time, I know Mikey adores Frankie even if he still complains about him once in a while," I followed the conversation, tying my shoes. I didn't want to sound too desperate to get to my point of concern.  


"That's what Vic said." I flinched when he mentioned the name. He didn't seem to notice, now calmly adding instant coffee into the cups. "He's not very patient with kids and never dealt with someone like Frank. Told him that he doesn't need to treat him any differently and I think he got the idea...at least he talked to Frankie after that. That's enough for me; I don't mean to force them, but since they're family to me I'd like them to get along with my son. I want Frankie to feel fine with them, accepted."  


"I totally understand that..." I trailed off, messing with my hair in front of the corridor's mirror.  It's not that I didn't care about their opinion of Frankie, I just didn't fear it as I feared their opinion _of me_.   


Anthony finally got to the part that interested me the most. "I had to tell them."   


"What? How...?" I worried. 

He came to the table with the coffees and placed mine before me. "They started asking questions, especially Victor. He suspected something."  


"Oh, then I was right, that was the reason for his death glare." I snorted, stirring my hot drink after adding sugar.  


"We're all very protective of each other, and Greg and Victor are like the bodyguards of the band, you know?" he commented. "They can sometimes be a little hasty in reaching conclusions, I admit it."  


"So he was thinking me a pervert too, how original!" I exclaimed sarcastically. The subject was really getting old and my patience had a shorter fuse now.  


"I wouldn't go that far. He'd had his doubts about you since the beginning when I first told them, that's why I hadn't revealed the whole thing to them so far. I thought it'd be better if they met you first."  


"But it was _worse_ ," I assumed.  


"Not really, it worked fine for most of them." He took a sip of his coffee and smiled. Was there something to smile at?  


"Elaborate..."  


"At first...they all got defensive."  


"Of course..." I sighed.  


"Gerard...I can imagine how it feels to always have people thinking wrong of you, but you need to put yourself in their place. When you first meet Frank, until you get to know him better, you'd think he's like a little kid, you know that. To find out about your relationship with Frankie _is_ shocking, it can seem inappropriate," he pleaded for his band mates' initial reaction. He was right, I knew he was right but I was just tired of being judged and doubted.  


"I do, I do put myself in other people's place but I...it...it _hurts_." I only realised that I was crying when I saw a single tear fall into the dark, steaming liquid in my cup. 

Anthony -who had been sitting across from me- moved around the table and occupied the chair next to mine. As soon as he placed a hand on my back, I turned and hugged him. It was a spur-of-the-moment response, an unconscious need for reassurance.  


"Go ahead and cry, you need it," Tony hushed, rubbing my back in that way that wasn't calming but inciting. An invitation to unburden. "I know how it feels..."

Those last words made a click in me and I began to sob against his shoulder, louder and louder. I didn't want Frankie to hear me, but I just couldn't stop. I did need to cry. Anthony hadn't explained himself farther and it wasn't necessary, I had read beyond that line he articulated and realised something that had escaped me so far. That 'I know how it feels', which could have passed for a cliche, wasn't so in his case. Though for different reasons, he did know how it felt to be prejudged, to receive bad looks often. This man hugging me had been once a drug dealer. He'd probably robbed and hurt people back then when he was an addict. However, I didn't see any of that when looking at him, I didn't mind. I only saw the sweet, kind, caring man he was nowadays. Anyway, I was sure it hadn't been like that with other people. Anthony must have been discriminated, distrusted, denied many opportunities because of his past and those two years he spent in prison. He'd been through far worse than me, of course he knew how I felt, and it comforted me.

He let me cry for as long as necessary, not caring if I was wetting his jacket with my tears. He wasn't old enough to be my father, but I hadn't dared tell everything to my own and in that moment I felt like a child in need of a paternal figure.  


"I...I'm gonna be late to work," I hiccuped.  


"No you won't, you still have time." Anthony took some distance to look at me, holding my head in between his hands. "Gerard, I'm gonna be clear and concise: I believe in you, I trust you. So do your family and friends. I don't mean to brag but...aren't we the only ones who matter?"  


I couldn't help laughing at his fake arrogant face. "Y-you are, you're right."   


"That's better! Now stay here and I'll make you another coffee, this one's gone cold."  


"But...your friends...what did they...?" He still hadn't told me how their talk ended.  


"Oh, right! Almost forgot." He sauntered back to the stove. "You know how I mentioned that they all got defensive?"  


"Yeah..."  


"Well, not actually _all_ of them. Right after I let out that you were Frank's boyfriend, Paul said you're the most adorable couple ever and that he wants to be the improvised minister if you two ever get married," he surprised me. Good to know someone took it so well.  


"I think it's still too soon to think of marriage but...I'll have him in mind!" I bantered. "Oh, there's something I've been wanting to ask you, and even more after what you just said."  


"Go ahead and shoot, then."  


"Excuse my curiosity but....is Paul gay?" I uttered timidly. The bassist gave me that vibe, but I hadn't found the right moment to check it with Tony the night before. 

He cracked up laughing and spread the crumbs of the cookie he was eating all over the counter. "Oh sorry, I'll clean the mess! Gerard, you have a _fine_ gaydar!"  


"I do?"  


"Definitely! It's not like Paul's like...a flamboyant butterfly."  


"I was right, then?" I verified.  


"Yep, Greg and I met him at a gay club," he expatiated, handing me my refilled cup. I inhaled the tempting aroma and enjoyed the warmth on my cold hands, relaxing and trying to forget what a crying baby I was. "I never thought it was that obvious in him. I've been told it's much more so in me, and I'm 'technically' bi."  


"I don't know if it's obvious, I just sensed it, can't explain it."  


"Gaydar, we know our kind!" he sniggered. "So, I guess you wanna know about the other guys."  


"Please?"  


"I was very clear to them about how things are between you and Frankie, the conversations we've had, the part of Frank they didn't see. Jake and Trevor were more convinced after that, they reasoned that there might be nothing wrong with the relationship and that I'd know if there was. Victor still can't understand how I accepted it so easily, but at the same time he trusts my intuition. They've seen me suffer for my supposedly dead son and then almost explode with joy when I found him alive thanks to you. The guys trust me to know what's good for Frankie. You don't need to worry, Gerard." He finished talking and stared at a still sulky me. "Stop worrying, I told you, it's an order!"  


"Ok, ok, lower your voice!" I quieted him. "You're gonna wake up Frankie!"

Just as I said that, I saw Frankie silently appear from behind his father, grinning and motioning for me not to say anything. "G-GOOD MORNING!" he screamed and jumped on Tony's back.  


"Oh God, son!" Iero brought a hand to his chest. "Good morning! Though you almost scared me to death!"  


Frankie kissed his dad's cheek, still perched on his back. "I...I'm s-super sneaky, uh?"   


"Very! And also incredibly hyper in the mornings..."  


"Yes, he's usually like this just before taking his meds. Then if you wait any longer to give them to him, it gets worse like yesterday," I said.  


"Went to pee?" Tony questioned Frankie.  


"Y-yep."  


"Right place?"  


"I th-think so. Y-yes." He giggled.  


"Brushed your teeth?"  


"Y-yes!"  


"Then coddle Gerard a little before he leaves." Anthony walked backwards putting Frank down on my lap. "Boyfriend delivery!"  


"Oh, I like the new service!" I joked, Frankie and I sharing a sweet, long kiss. "Good morning, love."  


"M-morning!" Frank stared at me and got suddenly serious. "G-gee, you c-cried...why?"  


"No I didn't..."  


"Y-yes you d-did! I...I kn-know I'm not l-like...super s-smart but...but I'm not s-stupid! Y-you cried!" He pouted, annoyed at my denial. It only made me want to kiss those pursed lips again, but he pushed me apart. "T-tell me first."  


"Gerard cried because he's happy," Anthony helped.  


"Wh-why?" Frankie insisted.  


"I was talking about you and how much I love you and...I started crying!" I pecked the tip of his nose. "I'm a sissy."  


"Awwwwww y-you're not a s-sissy, you're c-cute!" Frankie now granted me permission to his mouth, which I exploited shamelessly. "N-now go to w-work or...or y-you'll be late."  


I spent a moment contemplating him, proud of the way he'd matured and adapted in some aspects. He had learned to accept things that he didn't exactly like and rarely complained, for example, when I had to leave.  


"Oh, Tony, the pills are on top of the cupboard. Grind one and a half and scatter it over the marmalade on a toast," I indicated, since it was the first time Anthony would do it. He usually came when I had already taken care of that, so he only needed to remember about the vitamins at lunch.  


"Ok! Now go, and again..."  


"...stop worrying, I know!" I waved and left.  


****  


I'd been expecting that Frankie would object to staying with Ray again. He loved my friend, but this new experience of having a father and spending time with him was still very recent. They had yet lots of activities to share and coincidences to discover. There was, however, no problem when a new week started; Frankie had missed Ray as much as Ray had missed him. Toro said he'd keep getting up early during his free week because he had gotten used to it, and then he would spend the morning pacing around the house without knowing what to do. Therefore, both of them were visible happy to see each other, and had begun to plan the day as soon as Ray arrived.  


On Wednesday, Tony had come for us and we went to see his friends again. I'd started to think that he was doing all within his reach to book shows at neighboring towns on purpose, though he repeated it was just luck and he wasn't the one in charge of that.  


This time, the meeting was fortunately far more pleasant for everybody. The four men abstained from asking any question that could incommode me and even Victor was civil towards me. In view of Frank's emphatic request, I ended up singing some Beatles songs accompanied by Tony and Paul on acoustic guitars. Frankie was ecstatic, jumping and applauding, and Jake labeled him my groupie. We probably still had a long way to go until they -or mostly Victor- could wholly take me in, though I liked the idea of us all being a big, peculiar family.  


******

It was a cold, late Friday afternoon, those that make you want to just turn on the heater and wrap yourself in a blanket. That's what Frankie and I did once Ray left, cuddling on the couch under a bedcover and watching a romantic movie we caught on TV. Once in a while Frankie would roll over to face me, smiling in a foolish way that I was more than likely imitating. We'd kiss for some seconds and then he'd turn his attention back to the movie. My concentration was failing, I had no idea what was happening on the screen. My interest was stolen by the boy lying next to me, his back against my chest; so close, so warm. Supporting my weight on my elbow, I watched the flickering lights play with Frank's soft features, reflect on his glasses and the pupils behind them. He looked dreamy, absorbed, he was smiling.  


"Oh!" he whispered, ignorant to my observation. 

I glanced at the TV to see what had cause his exclamation, and found that the movie's main characters were in bed and had gotten intimate. You couldn't really see anything, since the bed sheets concealed their presumed nudity and actions; but their movements clearly implied that they were having sex.  


"Th-they're making l-love, Gee?" Frankie asked, eyes fixed on the images.  


"Yes, I think they are..." I breathed out barely audible. 

Frank had gotten even closer, every rear part of his body connected to my front ones. All of a sudden the room was too warm, but I didn't want to get out of our hot cocoon.  


"I...I d-don't think the b-boy used lube. N-nope I didn't s-see him...b-but the girl's not h-hurting. Is sh-she? D-doesn't seem so. G-gee? Y-you listening?" He kicked my shin. 

I _was_ listening, though also hoping he didn't except me to answer. The heat, the closeness, the conversation; even the corny sex scene on display was contributing to my growing problem. I pushed my hips back, only to have Frankie do the same. 

"G-gee, talk to m-me!"  


"Uh...no, I'm sure the girl's not in pain. He didn't used lube 'cause girls...their bodies produce their own ...lube," I vacillated.  


"R-really?" His voice sounded weird, like his mind was somewhere else. He fidgeted and pulled the cover away from him. "It...it's t-too hot."  


"Yeah..." 

We stayed in silence for some minutes as the fictional couple reached their climax.  


"G-gee..." Frank wasn't looking for an answer this time. I couldn't have given him one anyway, because his mouth covered mine and his tongue was soon filling it. I stopped worrying about my problem when I felt his corresponding one.  


"Frankie...don't you want to watch the last part of the movie?" I reminded him out of courtesy, maybe he actually liked it.  


"N-no I...uh...s-so hot here..." He jumped off the couch and dragged me by the hand. Deja-vu.

On the bed, things occurred fast. One of those desperate moments when hands move so frantically, that by the time a signal reached your brain it's not that same spot what's being touched anymore. It was during a breath pause that we looked into each other's eyes and slowed down. I didn't remember in which moment our clothes had been discarded, but we were naked.

Frankie was on top of me and I was glad to have reacted. I loved to truly enjoy him, with no rush. Slowly, gradually. Feel that pale, flawless skin; soft as velvet. He was by no means scrawny and had no muscles whatsoever, just perfect to me. When touching, I'd rather touch flesh than bones or muscle. I loved the way his flesh yielded under my touch, how the roundness of his hips was the exact size for my hands to fit.  


I also loved the timid, sensual style of Frank's caresses. His eyes would follow his hands as they explored, occasionally returning to meet mine to make sure I was liking it. I _always_ liked it, and he always smiled at the reactions he aroused.  


Our kisses...I could never have enough of our kisses. If it wasn't because breathing was a life or death matter, I'd never detach my lips from Frankie's. His mouth was so inviting, with his heart shaped lips of an intense pink that so often offered me smiles. Frankie always smiled with his whole face and sparkled through those big, tender eyes. His hair would stubbornly get in the way and I loved it and hated it at the same time. It was pretty, wavy, shiny, wild; nonetheless too persistent in hiding those beautiful features I needed to behold.

I thought it had been too much of all that when Frankie got off me -flushed and panting- and bit his thumb in deep thought.  


"Are...are you ok?" I rasped, like my voice had been sucked out of me. 

He didn't answer, only nodded and crawled to the edge of the bed, opening the nightstand's drawer. Still mutely, he handed me the tube of lube and lied back down. I freaked out, for I'd thought he would never want to try again. Maybe I had even _hoped_ he wouldn't, and now my head was flooded with 'what if's'. What if I scared him? What if I hurt him? What if he hated it? What if he backed off again and felt even worse?  


"Frankie...are you sure?"  


"Y-yes..." he told me in between the kisses that were falling on my neck. "It...it d-didn't hurt _that_ m-much when we t-tried. W-was...un...uncom-fortable and...and I g-got scared. C-can we try a-again? P-please..."  


"I...I guess...if you really want..." It was hard to talk, it was hard to think while he was doing what he did. What's more, he sounded so sure that he would feel rejected if I said no...and I honestly didn't want to say no.

What followed seemed almost like a repetition of the previous attempt. _Almost_. Frankie was still scared but much calmer, because he basically knew what was coming. Opposite to what I thought, I was less nervous too. I was actually able to use my brain and remember to warm the lube, rubbing it in between my palms. This added a point in favor of this new opportunity we permitted ourselves. It wasn't so shocking for Frank, it was in fact good and pleasurable. I didn't need him to tell me, I didn't have to ask, his face was the answer. It didn't show pain but pleasure, and his body wasn't fighting me.

I warned him before proceeding to the second phase of the preparation, the one that had made him pull back during our first try. He tensed up but agreed, and I did my best to distract him from what was next. I didn't care about the awkwardness of my position, the pain in my arm from extending it too much or in my back from the absurd angle. I kissed him, I stroked him, I murmured sweet words to him. He whimpered and bucked, but when he began to respond to the kiss I knew things were going definitely better than last time. He was relaxed around me and I considered that he was ready to continue, so I informed him of the new step.

"Ok baby, n-now I'm gonna move my fingers around a little."  


"K-kay..." he assented, peeping through his long eyelashes. 

I spread my digits as gently as possible, in slow motion, avoiding any abrupt move. My other hand rubbed him some more, just the necessary to ease the tension while I permanently observed his face. I sensed some resistance, and his expression showed me the same. His eyes were tightly closed, tears escaping from the corners. Scared, even if Frankie wasn't saying anything, I detained my fingers.  


"I....sorry Frankie, if I'm hurting you..." I wavered. 

He reached out for my face and cupped it, bringing it closer to his. He kissed me briefly and serene. "D-don't stop." The tone denoted no pain, it was sexy. His heart pulsated rapidly and his eyes were now open and needy. His smile was still childish and sincere. "I...I'm f-fine."  


"I love you," I muttered as I recommenced the stretching, never losing sight of Frankie's eyes. 

He cried out and shut them, then forced the lids up once more, breathing deeply and gazing at me. An indecipherable gaze.  


I paused again, grabbing one of his hands and kissing it. "Sure you're not in pain?" I loosened my grip but he kept his hand there; his fingers grazing my face, roaming through my cheeks, his thumb tracing my lips.   


"J-just a little," he responded after a while, panting. "F-feels weird but...g-go on."  


I did as he said, and we lost ourselves in a heated kiss as my free hand massaged his shoulders, circled his nipples, played with his bellybutton. Frankie squirmed, I guessed both from discomfort and delight, but didn't break the kiss.  


"F-fuck I..." he groaned, and I didn't get to ask anything. The moan that followed had only one plausible interpretation. 

I carried on some more; now that he was finally enjoying I didn't want to deprive him of it so fast.  


"Ok Frankie, I think you're ready." I withdrew my fingers with extreme care and he gasped.  


"N-no don't...d-don't go..." he pleaded, watching me sit up and rummage back into the drawer.  


"I'm not going anywhere." I knelt in between Frank's legs, all of what I needed in my hands. 

He propped his body up a little to be able to see me. "Is...is th-that a...uh...c-condom?" he questioned when he saw me unwrap it.  


"Yes..." I looked down at myself for the first time since we came into the room. I may have forgotten about my own needs in favor of Frank's wellbeing, but my body hadn't. 

As soon as my fingers took contact with the part of me I'd been neglecting, I became aware of what was going to happen and I had to use all my strength to control my impulses. I slid on the condom and perceived Frank's stare on me. I looked up and the view almost led me to ruin it all. He had gone back to his previous position, but one of his hands was now gripping the pillow while he used the other one to touch himself, his legs separated enough for him to get a good sight of me in between them.  


"Oh my...you're so pretty." Those were not the most reasonable words anyone would have pronounced in front of such a sensual vision. Nevertheless, they were the honest ones that came out of my mouth. "Just...take it easy, let me be the one to do that later?"  


"K-kay..." he whined. "...h-hurry up? I...I n-need you."  


I made sure everything was in place before generously coating the condom in lube. I had considered the possibility of not using protection, since both Frankie and I had been medically tested not long ago and I knew we were clean. However, I thought it was only correct. This was going to be the first time we'd do this, Frank's real first time _making love_ , and I wanted to respect that. I felt it was better to not invade him entirely, to keep a barrier.  


"Is...is your th-thingy okay in-inside that?" Frankie let out one of his classic questions, his voice muffled by his knuckles which he was sucking at. Nerves or just auto-control.  


"Perfectly f-fine," I half moaned, ready and in place. "I have to ask you one more time: are you sure you want to do this?"  


"Y-yes. If...if I d-don't like it I'll t-tell you," he replied with conviction. "B-be nice, k-kay?"  


"Of course, I'll be very nice 'cause I want you to feel fine with this." I gave him one more reassuring kiss, one last hand squeeze that begged for trust. Trust that I found in that pair of stunning crossed eyes.

I lifted one of his legs and guided myself with my remaining hand. Even with the preparation and all the lube I'd used he was still tight. The wonderful sensation I was experiencing mixed with fear, fear of hurting him. I had to open my eyes, as difficult as it could be I _had_ to. Only that way I'd be able to read in his countenance what he wouldn't dare communicate with words. He could be in pain and not say it, he was capable of that for me and I couldn't allow it. It wouldn't serve me, not if I was the only one having a good time.

I knew Frank felt some pain when his features hardened and he released a small whimper, but he seemed to be enduring it surprisingly good. He was still considerably relaxed and got even more so when I asked him to. That helped both him and me and, having his agreement, I slowly, gingerly filled him.  


I met his eyes for the hundredth time, conscious of the importance of the moment and overwhelmed by sensations. He felt the same, though he was understandably more uncomfortable. He had tears running down his cheeks but he smiled. It wasn't forced, I knew him well. My body was screaming for me to move but I didn't, I'd wait. 

Frankie attempted to sit up, not liking the distance, wanting our whole selves to be joined. He cried out and fell back on the mattress. I let his leg slide down and helped him up carefully, holding him as he ended up sitting on me. It hurt him more than our previous position, but he appeared to forget about it once he threw his arms around my neck and kissed me. He forgot the pain the same as I forgot about my desperate need to move for those seconds. It felt too good, it was so special.  


"F-feel like a l-lego," he whispered in my ear. I was too high on adrenaline and excitement to find any meaning in it. I couldn't think, I could only feel.  


"I love you...s-so so so much," I murmured, laying him back down. Yet I stayed as close to him as I managed. I kissed his throat, I went down his chest. My hands traveled along his sides, his hips, his thighs. He arched his back moaning loudly, and I couldn't hold on anymore.  


I thought I'd die out of pleasure when I began my rhythmical dance in and out. All I had been keeping inside broke out of me and I vocalized it. Frankie was whispering things that I couldn't comprehend but I interpreted as positive. His hands would go from grasping the bedsheets to hanging from my shoulders or pulling at my hair.  


"Uh...k-kiss me..." he mumbled. 

As I changed my position, without premeditating it, I hit the right spot and we screamed with one voice. 

"Th-that...uh...g-good...G-gee...f-fucking...kiss m-me." He violently tugged at my head, though at that point pain didn't exist. 

I kissed him and it was an overdose of pure bliss. Our tongues associated in a wet, messy twirl and my head was light as a feather. I had never felt that way before, never that intense, never so right. It was a revelation, it was so evident that he was the one for me. I shivered all over, as if an electric current had traversed me. I wasn't done, it was only a strange, random reaction to that unique experience. Frankie giggled, in the most unimaginable moment -which intensified my joy.  


I didn't know where my hands were until Frank found one and led it to where he wanted it, keeping his over it. I realised I wouldn't last much more, it wasn't easy to keep a pace anymore. We were panting, sweating, shouting, moaning; stealing kisses that we couldn't maintain. Frankie looked gorgeous, desirable; the little boy in him asleep to let the young man manifest. 

I tried to cool down to allow myself one selfish wish: I wanted Frankie to finish first, be able to witness that moment, admire his face, listen to the sounds he'd make. I had before, I knew I loved it so I didn't want to miss it this time from all the times. There was also another less selfish side to my wish, I preferred to guarantee his pleasure before I was worn out.  


Our adjoined, slippery hands stroked Frank as I continued to push into him. Never rudely, but deep enough to cause the greatest feelings, using my own experience from when I'd been in his place so many times. His free hand grabbed my arm, his legs surrounded my waist and he got tighter around me. One more thrust and I fought to keep my eyes open as the glorious moment occurred before them. With a short cry Frankie shook, his fingers twisting the sheets, his back in an excessive angle that only left his head as support. His jaw pointing to the ceiling, mouth in the most perfect 'o' shape and eyelashes flapping like black butterflies wings.

I was enthralled, hypnotized, it was another dimension; our own. When Frankie collapsed on the bed, I reached out to get the soaked hair off his face. So absentminded I was, looking at him, that I lost all notion of myself. Despite that, somehow I had kept on moving. My climax got me by surprise, causing me to freeze mid way into what I was doing. It hit me like a lightning bolt. I literally saw stars inside my eyelids and I didn't know what I was saying, screaming, babbling. It was too much, it was just as I'd imagined it.  


I fell forward, still inside of Frankie. In that moment when my blood began to normally circulate through my body, when my brain very slowly recovered his functions, when I stared into the eyes of the sweet boy below me, is when I understood the meaning of what Frankie had said. "Lego..." I smiled. 

He grinned, nodding.  


We were like Lego pieces, indeed. We would be nothing without each other, but together we were a unit, we'd been made to match. There was an important difference, though. As opposed to those plastic bricks, we didn't need any more pieces to be something. Two were enough.

Our souls had gotten together long ago, and this was only the culmination. The only step left to become one, to belong to each other completely. I saw it like a one time event, the maximum vow of confidence and compromise. It didn't even need repetition, not in our case, and that's what made it even more special.

"How was it, baby?" I asked him after a while, as we lied next to each other.  


"I...I l-liked it, a lot, an-and it hurt but not m-much. W-was like...wow but...b-but kinda w-weird and...t-too com-plicated." He made a pause, doubtful. "Y-you won't get an-angry?"  


"Why would I? Tell me whatever you need to say, you can be honest with me, you know that."  


"I...I th-think I like m-making love the w-way we always d-do better..." he confessed, avoiding my eyes afraid of disappointing me.  


"Did I tell you that I love you a little too much?"


	63. Chapter 63

_Well I ain't evil, I'm just good lookin',  
start a little fire, and baby start cookin'.  
I'm a hungry man, but I don't want pizza,  
I'll blow down your house and then I'm gonna eat ya._

Even after we rested for a while and took a needed warm shower, I was still feeling light headed, positively strange, euphoric. The experience had been moving, scary, greatly satisfying and -as Frankie had described it- complicated all in one. Good as a whole, definitely good and unforgettable.  


Frank had mentioned that he preferred our usual way of making love, presaging that what we'd done that afternoon might not have a repetition. I didn't tell him, but I had felt it would be like that since before he expressed it. I told him that I agreed, and I meant it. I was fine with that, I was _more_ than fine.  


In Frankie's case the euphoria was accompanied by another sensation, one that made him shower and get dressed quicker than ever and urge me to stop being a 'slow ass': he was hungry, super hungry. Hungry as he had never been before, according to his own words. He was nearly crying when we entered the kitchen and I disposed everything I needed to start cooking. He almost ripped off my hand together with the can of candy when I was searching for one to put his pills on. I finally resolved to allow him one extra candy, to which he said I was cruel. The sweets seemed to make him even hungrier.

"G-gee please, h-hurry up?" Frankie whined while I was seasoning the chicken, his arms circling my waist. If someone -who didn't see him devour cookie after cookie together with a full mug of chocolate earlier- had witnessed the desperate look he was giving me now, they'd have thought I deprived the poor boy of food for a week.  


"I just started, babe. Try to keep yourself occupied in the meantime?" I kissed him, turning back to my task.  


"B-but I'm hungry. Wh-what can I d-do?"  


"Watch TV?" I suggested.  


"K-kay..." he replied with minimum conviction. 

I inconspicuously checked on him from the kitchen's door and saw him plop prone on the couch and begin to flick through the channels tediously.  


It wasn't long until he was back to rush me, tugging at my clothes and making annoying sounds. I told him to no avail to be quiet, since I had a knife in my hands which I was slicing the potatoes with. He remained leaning on me, sighing dramatically.  


"Frankie please, have a little patience!"  


"C-can't, hungry. G-gimme something p-please?" he insisted.  


"No, love. We're gonna have dinner soon, you can wait."  


"B-but Gerard! M-making love made m-me too hungry, I'm d-dying!" He stuck his face in front of me, causing me to jump and drop the knife.  


I gently pushed him away. "Frankie! Stop doing that! I'm gonna hurt you or myself with this! You're _not_ gonna die, don't make drama out of this, boy."   


"B-BUT PLEASE!" Frankie stomped capriciously. Who would think that he was a sexy teenager only a couple of hours ago?  


"Ok, ok, just this." I retrieved a block of cheese from the fridge and gave him a thick enough slice.  


"Th-this won't fill m-my tummy!" he protested, rubbing his stomach.  


"Nothing does, so what's the difference?" I mocked him, arranging the meal on a platter.  


"Sh-shut up." His silence lasted what it took him to finish the cheese.

"G-gee I'm b-bored and h-hungry...sucks." Again he was beside me, poking me. When I ignored him, he decided to kiss my neck and nudge me with his nose to try and get me to comply. He was close to succeeding, he was my biggest weakness _and he knew it._ "P-pleeeease?"  


"Uh...no, Frankie, I won't give you anything until dinner's ready." I managed to stay firm.  


He punched my arm. "E-evil Y-you're evil! I...I'm g-gonna die and it'll be y-your fault!"  


"Frankie, you won't. Why don't you go play something, or draw?"  


"K-kayyy!" He stormed out of the room and came back with his color pencils and some paper sheets. He knelt on a chair and decidedly traced some black lines.

It worked rather well. He appeared to be entertained and I was able to get the meal ready and into the oven. At that instant, I looked at him and noticed that he was seemingly daydreaming, his head supported by a hand and an amused smile on his lips. Just when I was going to ask him what he was thinking of, he got off the chair and skipped out.

I intended to follow him, but got distracted by his drawing. It showed two long-haired stick figures -naked, I presumed, because there were no colors added- hugging each other on a flowery rectangular surface which I understood as our bed. We were staring at each other and our mouths -drawn pink and protuberant- were connected. Above that, a red heart said 'FOREVER'. With tears in my eyes I scanned the paper down and saw another annotation: 'AM HUMGRY AND GEE DONT WANNA GIMME NOTHIN. MEANY.'

Shaking my head, laughing and tearing at the same time, I searched around for Frankie. I found him looking at the notebook where I wrote down phone numbers, the telephone handset face up on a shelf as he dialed.  


"What are you doing, babe?" I startled him.  


"Uh...g-gonna call!" he answered with the widest grin.  


"Who are you gonna call?"  


"D-dad!" He then cursed under his breath, pressed the power button off and back on and started to dial again. 

I stopped his hand. "Wait, why are you calling him now?" I queried, a worrying idea in my mind.  


"I'm b-bored and too h-hungry and you're not f-feeding me so...g-gonna call dad and t-tell him we m-made love for r-real and wasn't th-that bad. P-promised I'd tell h-him!" he replied as if it wasn't a big deal at all. I thought differently; I reckoned that wasn't the best way for Tony to find out.  


"What?! No!" I freaked out as he fought my hands off so he could do what he wanted.  


"Wh-why?" He shrugged. "It...it's m-my dad and wanna t-tell him!"  


"I know, I know and you will, but I think it's better to tell him in person, not by phone and now. Wait and we'll do it together soon?" I tried.  


"N-nope, _now_."  


"Frankie, please don't..." I reached for the phone but Frank shoved me harder.  


"Shh!" he hissed. "H-hiii, dad! F-frankie, yes. F-fine..."  


"Frankie..." I stood in front of him, my hands together as if praying. 

He just giggled. "N-no, Gee's being an-annoying. Yeah. I...c-called 'cause...'c-cause something very im-important happened and w-wanna tell you." He gave me a naughty look and my heart pounded hard inside my chest. 

In a moment of desperation, I relied on a not completely fair recourse. "You tell him now and I won't give you dessert," I whispered, so only Frankie would hear it. 

He watched me terrified, saying 'no' with his head. "Uh...d-dad? G-gerard doesn't want m-me to tell you n-now," he spoke into the phone. Great, now Anthony would think it was something bad that I wanted to hide. "N-no it's not b-bad! R-really, it's n-not. Y-yes I'm very g-good! N-no, he said w-we'll tell you t-tomorrow. Y-yes."  


"Tomorrow? When did I say _tomorrow_?" I wondered aloud.  


"Y-yeah, good n-night dad, tell G-greg I said g-good night too! I...I l-love you, bye!" He hung up and smiled at me. I hoped that upon hearing what Frankie had said last, Tony had melted and wouldn't think much about the rest. "K-kay, now g-gimme food and then d-dessert, kay?"  


"Kay! Let's go get everything ready." I held him and walked us to the table, kissing him in the process.  


******  


"Frankie, why don't you sit properly? I don't think it can be comfortable to eat like that..." I pointed at the uncommon way in which he was situated -sat over his bended legs. It left him far from the plate and food was most probably going to end up on his clothes.  


"I...uh..." Frank's face became as red as the plastic glass he was drinking from. He tried to sit, but got up instantly with a pained expression. That's when it dawned on me. "I c-can't...hurts."  


"Oh, baby, I'm sorry! I'm so stupid that I didn't think of it..." I now realised that he'd been sitting like that all the time since we got off the bed, and guilt struck me. Had I not been gentle enough? Frankie hadn't bled and he'd told me it didn't hurt much, but what if he had lied? "I'm really, really sorry for hurting you, is it too bad?"  


"N-no it's not, just wh-when I sit on something h-hard," he murmured. In any other occasion, if I wasn't feeling so bad for him, I would have laughed at the unintentional double meaning of his words. "D-don't get sad, G-gee! M-my ass is f-fine. H-hurted a lot l-lot more when h-he...yeah, much m-more..."  


"It'll get better soon." I pecked his forehead as I recalled my first time. I'd been lucky to have a good one and I had been treated carefully, but that didn't save me from hurting a little afterwards. "Let's help you with that..."  


"It...it's f-fine, lemme eat n-now. D-don't care h-how I sit," he groaned.  


"Here, this cushion's soft enough, try it." I handed him one from the couch.  


"Y-yep, better! Th-thanks, Gee." He smiled and kept attacking his food. Again, I seemed to be worrying more than I should. Frank was no doubt happy.  


******

Anthony took Frank's words to the letter and paid us a visit the following day. My original plan of _subtly_ letting him know that Frankie and I had gone all the way didn't work. Better said, it was canceled at the same moment the door opened and Frankie launched at his father _screaming_ the news. 

If I thought our previous conversation when Tony found out about us had been embarrassing, I could safely say this one was indescribable. It wasn't Anthony's fault, though. Frankie's joyful face was enough proof that everything had gone alright, and my panicked one a clear sign that I was sick and tired of being put to the test. However, it was Frankie who felt the necessity to fill him in with some details about how I had behaved. Tony tried to stop him to spare me the suffering, but Frank wouldn't have it. My lovely boyfriend only wanted his father to be sure that I had been good to him, he was defending me from anything Tony could object to. In spite of his good intentions, it was one more embarrassing situation to add to my collection; hopefully the last one of its kind. Everything was said, everything was done, and Iero took it all incredibly well.  


******

The next week's days passed by as fast as it usually happens when you're having a good time. Nothing special; just those simple, quotidian things that spice up your life: more cold afternoons cuddling on the couch talking, kissing, or just reading a book. More of cooking together, playing boardgames, drawings for hours. More of showing our love in the way that was the most natural to us, the one that felt like ours.  


The four of us went to the park again, a perfect family that had nothing to envy the Addams for. Frankie found Mel in the same swing, as if she had been waiting for him. They spent the afternoon running from side to side, trying it all. We had to keep an eye on Frank and remind him to slow down for his heart not to get too accelerated. Needless to say, our advices went unheeded; but he was fine and happy and Mel took good care of him.

We'd been a little unsure of what the girl's father would think of this odd pair of friends, but he surprised us. He told us that his daughter talked a lot about Frankie. She had been coming to the playground nearly every day hoping to see him again. When his dad asked her why she was so interested, Mel explained that she'd seen Frankie's soul and didn't mind that he was much older than her. She felt that he needed a friend and all boys his age were idiots, so she wanted to be that friend. The man hadn't been able to argue after hearing such a deep, kind thought coming from his 10 year old kid. Anthony and I couldn't stop thanking them for making Frankie feel accepted for once.

Frank's 19th birthday was around the corner, and we'd all been thinking about it. It would be his first birthday with us, so we wanted it to be special. We had accorded to give a Halloween-birthday party at my mother's house, considering it was something Frankie would love. He enjoyed having fun like a little kid and we saw no reason to change that or force him to grow up. While family and friends had been secretly searching for costumes to wear, my mother was taking care of Frankie's. She wouldn't tell us what it was, though.  


The birthday subject had become more and more frequent for Frank himself during conversations, and he always ended up angered because he couldn't get us to spit out any information.  


******

Another Friday arrived. Frankie had fallen asleep after a mattress-jumping session with Puppy, and I was putting the house in order. Anthony, Greg and Frank had performed a mini show while I was gone, and Frank's 'stage' antics -I suspected also Tony's- had left the living room upside down. I had returned everything to its correct place and was polishing the deteriorated coffee table -entirely scratched by shoes- when I heard the doorbell.  


"Who is it?" I asked, since I wasn't expecting anyone.  


"Gerard way?" an unknown voice came from the other side of the door.  


"Yes, I'm Gerard Way...who's there?" I inquired, an uneasy feeling setting at the bottom of my stomach.  


"Police, officer Walsh. There's been an accusation and we need to ask you some questions. Would you open the door?" the man confirmed my fears. An accusation? Why...who? That couldn't be good.  


I slowly opened the door, shaking, feeling that it might lead me to my doom. I could hear my heartbeats echoing inside my ears. I took a deep breath to try and calm down. Being nervous never helped in these kind of situations; it would make me seem guilty when I didn't even know what I had been accused of.  


I observed the officer at the same time that I sensed his eyes studying me. He didn't look like a police man. If he hadn't been wearing the uniform I would have never guessed. He was around 45, with dark hair and olive skin. Not short, not too tall; thin and not menacing at all. The same I was scared shitless.  


"Good afternoon." Walsh shook my hand. "As I said, to start with I need to know some basic things."  


"Uh, but why..."  


"Do you live with a younger boy?" he cut me off. The possibility I had been refusing to believe sounded dangerously possible now. 

Lying wasn't an option. "Yes, Frank, he's sleeping now, why?" I faked calmness.  


"Is he mentally ill?"  


"Yes...how do you know?" I dared to ask. Who had told them? What had they told them exactly?  


"The person who denounced you said it," he replied shortly. "What does the boy have?"  


"Schizophrenia, and mild brain damage...what...?"  


"How old is he?" the officer proceeded, not paying attention to my confusion nor letting me ask back.  


"Almost 19...can you please inform me a little better on the accusation?" I voiced shakily. 

Walsh eyed me again. It was that 'I'm the one who gives the orders' look. He wrote something down before addressing me again. "Can I see the ID?"  


"Mine?" I questioned.  


"Well, I meant the boy's, but both actually."  


"Ok, just a minute." I tiptoed into the room, careful not to wake up Frankie; seeing a police officer would only bring bad memories. I got the IDs from one of the closet's drawers and made my way back to the living room. "Here. But...uh...there's a problem with Frank's, long story," I warned him, knowing that would surely add to the problem I was already into.  


"I see..." he muttered, examining the documents.  


"His birth date's there, though. And something about his pathology on the last page..."  


"A-ha..."  


"Officer, I don't want to be rude or anything but...I'd really like to know what the problem is, what I'm being accused of. I think I have that right, don't I?" I pointed out. 

The man took his time to write some more things and then stared straight into my eyes. I had begun to change my mind about him not being threatening; or maybe I was too easily intimidated.  


"Someone said you maintain an intimate relationship with a mentally ill boy who looks like he might be a minor," he explained, leaving me open mouthed. My biggest fear was taking form.  


"He's not..."  


"Yeah, seems he's not a minor but he's still mentally ill. According to the witness, this Frank acts like a little kid," he carried on with the habit of not letting me talk..  


"I didn't do anything wrong, I don't care what that person says," I spat, fear mixing with anger now. "Who accused me, by the way?"  


"I don't have that information, Mr. way," he responded. "You tell me what kind of relationship you have with the boy."  


"I...." I faltered. I was aware that doubting meant another point against me, but I was more conscious of the fact that I could be about to lose Frankie, to lose my life. I was so scared, so petrified, employing all my strength to not cry, to not break down in front of that officer and beg like a frightened child. "We're..."  


"G-gee!" Frankie's voice caught me and the guy by surprise. Walsh instantly looked up, waiting for Frankie to get into the picture. "C-come shower with m-me?"  


"Oh, fuck..." I muttered. 

Frankie entered the room and froze, his eyes fixed on the officer. "G-gee, why's a p-police here? I...I...you're f-fine, right?" He clung to me shaking.  


I rubbed his back. "I'm fine, don't worry. This man only came to ask me some questions."   


"You still have to answer my last one," Walsh stated, inspecting Frankie closely. "What's your relationship with this kid?"  


"We...are boyfriends, and I don't see the problem. What's more, Frank's father knows about it all," I told him confident. I always felt more secure with Frankie by my side.

"Y-yes we are! An-and don't say special p-people can't be with n-normal people 'cause th-that's not true," he backed me, intuiting something.  


"I didn't say that, I only need to know some things," the man nicely told Frank. "Way, you named his father...where's he?"  


"He lives a few blocks from here."  


"Would you tell me his address?" The policeman turned the page on his notebook and swiftly scrabbled what I dictated. "Ok, then we'll pick him up on our way to the station." 

Had I understood well? "What do you mean with 'on our way to the station'?"  


"I...I d-don't wanna go an-anywhere! G-gee...tell him w-we're not going? H-he scares me." Frankie began to cry and I was too close to join him.  


"I have to considerer all the suspicions, and the kid's ID doesn't even have his last name in it," the officer went on.  


"M-my last n-name's Iero." Frank intervened. "B-but I don't w-wanna go with you. G-go away, we d-did nothing bad."  


"Sorry, but we'll have to check your name in the data bases. You both will have to come with us for a little interrogation."  


"WHAT?" I screamed. "You can't fucking arrest me for what someone who you're no even telling me the name of said! I've done nothing and you have nothing against me! Frank's not a minor and he has the same right as anybody else to be in a relationship!"  


"I'd suggest you to calm down and watch your language, mister Way. I'm not arresting you, I'm inviting you to come with me willingly...save you wanna get into further trouble for refusing," he calmly corrected me. I was so screwed. I knew I had done nothing against the law, but also knew what most people's opinion about cases like ours was.  


"Oh...ok."  


"N-NO! I...I d-don't want to, G-gerard! W-wanna stay and t-take a shower. J-just..." Frankie sobbed against my chest, and I wanted to kill whoever had done this to us. 

I couldn't stand to watch Frankie suffer again, knowing that his condition tended to get worse under stress. He'd had enough, he deserved a peaceful life and it seemed he would never have one with me. It was too late, anyway. We were too attached, too in love, too dependent of each other to be separated. Especially because of someone else's close-minded decision.  


"Shh...it'll be ok, baby. Try to stay calm and..." I observed Walsh who was speaking on his handy, his back to us. "...don't get scared if they wanna talk to you alone. Be a big boy, ok?"  


"C-can't! D-dunno how I...th-they'll say I'm r-retarded and I can't be w-with you and..."  


I looked him in the eyes, transmitting him the little courage I had left. "No. They won't say that cause it's not true. Just tell them the truth, show them that you understand what to love someone is, that you're not a little kid."   


"M-maybe...maybe I am a l-little kid. M-my fault 'c-cause...'cause I d-don't act like b-boys my age. I d-don't do it on p-purpose, swear!"  


"Oh...no, Frankie! This is not your fault, and I love the way you are! But just for today..."

"Enough talking, my partner's on his way, come on!" The cop pointed to the door.  


"Let me get our jackets and Frank's meds first," I requested.  


"Go ahead, but the kid has to stay here."  


"N-NO I W-WONT, FUCK!"  


"Do as he says, Frankie, I'll be right back." I kissed his head and headed for the bedroom, throwing my own jacket on. After a quick visit to the kitchen, I was back with Frank's pill container and some candies in my pocket. 

He was sitting on the couch, hugging his knees and trembling. "D-don't want..."  


"Let's get you wrapped, it's cold outside." I pulled Frank up and, paying no mind to the officer's orders, I helped him with his jacket, scarf and gloves. 

Right then another police car parked in front of our house, and while Walsh conversed with the newcomer I took the chance to finish what I'd been telling my boyfriend. "Just for today...play to be a big boy, I know you can do it. Be brave, let's be brave both of us. And try not to curse!"  


"K-kay," he assented. "I'll be b-brave and won't s-say bad words b-but...if they're as-assholes I'll kick th-their asses. l-love you."  


"Me too, never forget it."  


"Come on, lovebirds!" Walsh shouted. 

In spite of the awful situation, I was glad that this guy wasn't exactly treating me like a monster. Not for a moment did he seem repulsed by the sight of two men together and I felt like he didn't believe that I should be accused. He had only been doing his job, and now he was passing on the responsibility because he didn't know what to do with us. I could only hope that the one in charge would be understanding enough.  


The second man was pudgy and older than the other, with red cheeks and a funny mustache. He gave me a good vibe when he identified himself as officer Taylor, smiling and not even attempting to look serious and professional as the first officer had. He patted my back and told me I'd be out of this soon. Oh, how I hoped he was right.  


I had taken Frank's hand in mine as we left the house, but Walsh made us apart with an apologetic look. The same look he gave us when I walked towards Taylor's car with Frank. "I'm sorry, you're coming with me." He threw his arm around my shoulders.  


"But...he's scared and..."  


"I'm only following the procedures, the boss didn't allow any exception," he justified, sounding like he had actually tried asking for one. "My partner has 4 kids, he'll be good to the boy."  


"Ok," I agreed once again, having no other alternative. I crouched to talk to Frank who was sitting in the front seat. "I'll see you once we're there, ok?"  


"K-kay." He forced a smile, though he couldn't fool me. I recognized the panic in his stare, I discerned the shaking that was assaulting him. It wasn't the meds, it was fear. 

I smiled back nevertheless, we could be good liars together. Perhaps, if we pretended too well, we'd make ourselves believe it.  


"No one will take you away from me," was my last statement before being led to the other car.

As soon as we took off, I felt short of breath. I knew that Frankie was in the car behind us, but that was distant enough. Just thinking of everything that could be going through his mind, all the emotions that he must be suppressing, was killing me inside. I wished I could hold him, kiss him, tell him everything would be alright over and over again. If only I could trust in it myself.

When we stopped by Anthony's apartment and the two men left the cars, I realised how close side by side they had parked them; the one I was in a little more ahead which let me in front of Frank's window even though I was on the backseat. I looked out and saw Frankie's nose and hands glued to the glass, his eyes big and shiny. I did what first came to my mind: I pressed my whole face to the car's window and started to make funny grimaces; sticking out my tongue and even licking the filthy crystal, stretching the skin below my eyes or enlarging my nostrils. I continued with my foolishness until I obtained the desired result: Frankie was now laughing and trying funny faces himself.

The car's door opened and I hurried to clean the glass with my sleeve. Walsh stared at me weirdly, but I just shrugged. Bringing my attention back to the other car, I saw Anthony get in, waving and mouthing something that looked to me as 'it's gonna be alright'.  


Frankie knelt on his seat and began to hit the glass that separated him from his father. I knew he was screaming even if I couldn't hear him. Taylor walked over to his side and let him out, opening the back door so he could go with the older Iero. That cop was certainly a good guy.  


While we were leaving I got to spot Greg running out of the small apartment, presumably to catch a cab and come join us.

During the short ride to the police station, I tried to think of who could have denounced me. My family and friends were out of the question. So were Tony and Greg, because even if they had lied about liking me -which I didn't think possible- they'd never make Frankie go through this. What about the other guys in the band? Victor...would he be capable? Maybe one of my neighbors? What if someone had seen us kissing or something like that? I had always been very careful, but I may have had a moment of distraction. Who else could it be?

I didn't have much time to meditate, since I was soon being lead into the building and told to sit on a cold, hard, dirty wooden bench against a stained wall. At the other side of the room sat Anthony holding Frankie. He still looked scared, but stayed collected and refrained from crying as he eyed his surroundings.  


Several cops came and went permanently, ignoring us, except for the two who had been assigned to watch over us -or better said me. It was either to make sure I wouldn't escape or that I'd stay away from Frank and not jump on him as the pervert I was supposed to be. Ridiculous. I wasn't under arrest to start with.  


Suddenly, Walsh walked by us with another police guy. The unknown one observed me shamelessly and then began to make comments in a low voice that wasn't low enough. He must have imagined me too lost in thoughts -since I wasn't directly watching them- or he just didn't give a fuck if I would hear him.  


"That's the presumed perv?" he asked Walsh, who nodded and gestured for him to speak lower. The other one, again, didn't mind. "Oh please, that's no perv. I know one when I see it, he's just a scared mama's boy. Besides, he's rather good looking and could have any girl -or boy- he wanted. I just saw the kid he lives with and...come on! Cross-eyed, with glasses, chubby...and on top of it all a nutty case. If that boy wanted to pervert someone he'd choose better, don't you think?"  


"Joseph, have you seen yourself in a mirror?" Walsh countered.  


"Son of a fucking..." I was about to get up and punch that idiot when I got a glimpse of Anthony. He'd heard too; and so had Frankie who was hiding his face against his dad's shirt.  


"Gerard!" Tony called. "Stay put, please."  


"As if it was so easy..." I thought aloud.  


The doors were pushed open and Greg appeared together with Ray. After exchanging some words with the guys at the entrance, finally Taylor let them in. 

I hadn't gotten to talk to my friend much when a new officer stood in front of me. "Mister Way?"  


"Yes..."  


"Follow me, we'll ask you some questions." He waited for me to get up and guided me with his hand on my back. Anthony was being led to another room, leaving Frankie with Greg.  


"Ray..." I stopped to address him. "Please, take care of Frankie, make sure they treat him well."  


	64. Chapter 64

_Well, they're never gonna get me,_   
_like a bullet through a flock of doves_   
_to wage this war against your faith in me._   
_Your life...will never be the same._

The room was tiny, had no windows and smelled like mold. I was welcomed by a man who looked pretty similar to Walsh; it was maybe because all policemen sported the same hairstyle. I could infer he had a much superior rank, though, judging by the four stars adorning his uniform. I also recalled Walsh calling him 'chief'.  


Said chief was sitting behind a desk that seemed to be at least one century old and was so thoughtfully covered in papers and folders that it hardly fulfilled its real purpose anymore. While thinking pointless things just to keep my mind off my fear, I calculated that in no more than a week the paperwork piles would reach so high that someone in my position would have to stand to be able to see the guy.  


Like every other cop had, he used the first minutes to scrutinize my appearance. I guessed that after years of working at that, they knew -or they thought they knew- how to recognize a criminal. Whatever conclusion he arrived to, he didn't share it with me.

"Good evening, mister Way. I'm Edgar O'Hara, chief of this department," he introduced himself, but didn't attempt to shake my hand. Instead he took some papers and checked them.  


"Good evening..."  


"First of all, do you know someone by the name of Gabriel Schneider?" was the first question. 

I couldn't answer right away, the mention of that name hit me like a bucket of ice water. How hadn't I thought of Gabriel? Of course it'd been him! 

"Yes, he was my...boyfriend." I replied looking down, _smelling_ the intolerance in that man. "Why do you ask?"  


"He was the person who denounced you," he confirmed. "How long ago were you...together?"  


"Uh...we broke up about a year ago. Yeah, something like that." I doubted whether I should say more or wait for him to go on, but I couldn't stop my mouth. "He wanted to have a female partner at the same time to pretend in front of his family and friends."  


"Have you seen him lately?" the chief inquired, clearly uncomfortable with the subject.  


"Yeah, I have. About two months ago, or maybe a little less, Gabriel went to see me at my place of work. He seemed to be a little out of his mind and asked for us to be together again. I told him to get lost and look for help," I opened up. "Then I didn't see him again until these last two weeks when I spotted him at random places I've been to. I considered the possibility that he might be stalking me, but I chose to ignore it. I guess he's jealous and that's why he did this..."  


O'Hara wrote something down. "Ok, that's enough." 

I'd had something roaming my head since I left the main room, and I needed to let it out before I could use my brain to respond to an interrogatory. This particular man in front of me didn't inspire any confidence but, being the one in charge, he was my best option. "Excuse me, would you tell me if Frank's going to be interrogated too?"  


"Why? You're afraid of what he could say?" he retorted sarcastically.  


I wouldn't allow that man to break me. "No, I have nothing to fear. It's just that he might get very scared among people he doesn't know and in an unfamiliar place."  

Surprisingly, he appeared to catch the lack of guilt in my voice, or maybe he just saw the honest, rightful concern in my eyes. "Don't worry, that man Iero gave us the number of the kid's psychiatrist. My men couldn't find him, he's out of the city for a couple of days, but they talked to the professional who is taking care of his patients. He has access to Frank's file and told us some basic things that we should know to proceed in the correct way with him," he informed me.  


"Oh ok, thanks." That left me at least a little more relieved. I would have preferred Goldberg to be available, but I knew he had a conference to attend at a near country. Frankie's weekly session had been moved to a day earlier because of that.

What followed was basically the same series of questions Walsh had asked me. O'Hara, however, delved deeper into how I'd met Frank and when that had happened. He specially demanded as many details as I could give him about what kind of relationship I had with him. _Personal_ details, those kind of details you don't feel like discussing with a stranger; although of course it was normal when a person -me- had been accused of perverting an innocent, mentally ill kid. Only thinking of the accusation against me made me shiver. It brought back the memories from our first months together, when I'd be so afraid of going any further, when I wasn't sure myself if it was right. Now that I had left my insecurities far behind, I wasn't willing to let anyone revive them.

I answered everything with the absolute truth. I knew that Anthony and Frankie must be having similar questions asked at the same time, and if our answers didn't match I'd be in a sure big trouble. I did my best to keep my voice as steady as possible to show that I had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. The chief didn't express any opinion and his face denoted no emotion, so I couldn't know what he was thinking. This exasperated me. The man's task was limited to asking questions, pressing further if he thought it necessary, and writing it all down. I felt too tempted to try and find out what his thoughts were about my case, but then I reconsidered it. The less I spoke without being told to, the better.  


The final point touched was how I had met Anthony. I made an extra effort to be very descriptive, I didn't want to leave anything out. Even when the cop didn't appear to be paying attention I still went on telling him how things had evolved since I first talked to Frank's father. Again, O'Hara only wrote down some more stuff.  


"Ok, mister Way, that's all for the moment. Wait outside, please," he finally told me. The questions hadn't been many, yet a considerable amount of time had gone by. This was, in part, due to my detailed explanations, but mostly because of the policeman's long pauses to meditate and take notes in a too calm manner.

When returning to the main room, I ran into Ray who was coming out of a contiguous one. Too tired for quick thinking, I only managed to throw him a questioning look.  


"When they called Frankie, he asked if I could come in with him," Ray explicated. "They didn't seem very happy with the idea, but after I insisted for a while they finally accepted as long as I stayed silent. They also placed me behind Frank, so he was giving me his back."  


"Oh, then Frankie couldn't really see you...was he ok with that?" I queried.  


"Yeah, I must tell you that Frank did amazingly well in there. The one asking the questions was an officer, but a psychiatrist was present to guide him and she intervened once in a while."  


"That's good, at least someone there knew what they were doing..." I mumbled, missing Frankie as if I hadn't see him for a week. I needed to know he was fine.  


"Frankie told them all the truth and did a great job hiding his fear. He behaved....much more mature. Since _I_ know him, I could tell that he was concentrated on acting that way, even trying hard to speak as well as he could....slowly and slightly exaggerating the pronunciation. I knew it wasn't natural and he was only _acting_ older and more serious, but I don't think they noticed," Ray described. 

A warm sensation spread inside my chest and I smiled. "That's my boy."  


"In a way...being capable of faking something if you know it will help a situation does require some maturity, don't you think?" my friend said absently.  


"Definitely! I'm _so_ proud of him. I only told him to 'play to be a big boy'."  


"Oh!" Ray exclaimed. "Then Frankie got it right for sure!"  


"Please, tell me more before someone interrupts us. Didn't Frank have any trouble with the questions?"  


"Not at all, they made it all very simple and clear, that guy was luckily patient. Frankie responded to everything without doubting much. Look, Gee, I'm not a psychologist or anything similar; but from Frank's words and the way he talked about you, I'd say anyone should realise that he's happy and has never been forced to do anything. He even mentioned John and made clear the difference between you and him." Ray intended to calm me, although it had the opposite effect.

"Are you sure that didn't make things worse?"  


"Yes I am. Gerard, if you had any doubt about whether Frankie understands what's right and wrong sexually speaking, you can relax. Today he demonstrated that he does."  


"I'll trust your intuition, Ray. Hope you're right." I sat down, bringing my knees to my chest and feeling cold and miserable. "What else?"  


"Oh, then it was 'let's make Ray feel embarrassed' time." He chuckled, causing me to look up confused.  


"Why?"  


"They asked Frankie if he'd ever done similar things to what he does with you...with _me_! What the fuck?" He frowned. "I couldn't see him, but I bet Frank's face was like mine upon hearing that. He sounded pissed off and told them he has only _one_ boyfriend. That I'm like his uncle who takes care of him, makes him lunch and plays. Then they dared ask him _what_ we play!"  


"Uh? What the fuck do they have in their heads? Fixed idea much?"  


"Yeah! Frankie was like 'uh...videogames, boardgames, or we draw, all that.' I'm sure that convinced them, though they told me to leave anyway..."  


"What? Why? Oh my God...he must be so afraid now!" I freaked out once again and began to cry without realising it. 

Ray sat beside me and hugged me tightly. "He'll be fine! They told him he'd have to draw now, so he was rather happy," he reassured me, although there was certain anger in his tone. "They must wanna see if he'll draw me in a weird situation or something..."  


"No, Ray..." It was my time to make him feel better now. "...for that case it'd be me who they expect Frankie to draw like that. The cop surely understood there's nothing wrong about you."  


"I know but still...it made me angry. Now, will you tell me how _you_ did?"  


"Okay, I hope. That guy was unreadable, so I can't be sure," I replied before filling him in with everything I had gone through.

We were still talking -glad that all the cops were too busy to keep an eye on us or eavesdrop- when Anthony came out of a narrow corridor.  


"Tony! How was it?" I invited him to sit with us, seeing as there was still no one around to stop us.  


"Did rather well, I think. At first, when I saw the guy had my file, I must confess I panicked. It worried me that those two years in jail and my 'criminal record' would make me less trustworthy." He massaged his temples, visible tired.  


"Did he say something about it?" Ray inquired.

"He just asked a couple of questions, but didn't comment or seem to care, I'd even say he was nice to me." He shrugged. "I guess my good behavior while in prison and after it served for something."  


"Yeah, I'm sure it did. After all, what are just a few years against the law compared to 14 as a good citizen?" I pointed out. We all laughed, but quickly sobered up when remembering where we were. It was good to lighten up our mood for a moment, though. "What else did they ask you?"  


"First about me and Frankie, so I resumed the story trying not to leave any important event out. Then..." he paused and looked at me sympathetically. "...it was all about you: how I met you, how long ago it was, what I think of you, if Frankie ever mentioned anything bad or suspicious related to you and how much I knew about your relationship with him."  


"Fuck...I don't like this a bit," I grumbled.  


"You shouldn't be so afraid, Gerard. I assure you, I made it perfectly clear that Frankie and you haven't hidden anything from me and I agree with it all. I told them Frankie's happy and completely aware of things."  


"I know, I had no doubts that you'd tell them so, but I still can't help my nerves. I hate being here, I hate being questioned this much." I sighed.  


"Do you know who accused you?" Iero broached the issue I had avoided so far. It angered me, and I needed to keep my cool.  


"My ex."  


"Gabriel?" Ray cried out.  


"Yes, but I don't feel like talking about that jerk right now. Tony...I'll tell you some other day."  


"It's ok, Gerard, you don't need to. What I do want to know is about you and the cop in there."  


"Ok, let's see if I can give you a brief version of it." 

Again, I repeated my experience with the chief. When Ray was telling Anthony about his son, we saw Frankie appear with Taylor. His gaze seemed a little lost, but overall he looked okay. 

I stood up and Frankie mouthed something to the officer, who murmured something back and withdrew the arm he had around the boy's shoulders. Frankie then ran joyfully to hug me. As soon as I hugged back, he began to plant kisses in both my cheeks. I responded with a lonely, long one on each of his, hoping it'd be enough to pour all I felt at that instant. To tell him how much I loved him, how proud of him I was, that I'd fight for us. The way he smiled, staring deep into my eyes, told me he got my message.  


"Y-you know, G-gee? I...I d-didn't like the man m-much and he was so an-annoying and as-asked so many qu-questions but...but the w-woman was nice and...and she made me d-draw so that w-was fun!" he whispered, as if fearing something he said could bring more problems.  


"Oh that's good, they didn't make me draw so it was boring!" I commented, watching Taylor walk toward us.  


"Sorry, but I have to take him back to the other side of the room before someone else comes," he apologized. "But if it helps, I can tell you from what I heard of the interview with the kid, that they got practically nothing to back up the accusation."  


"Thanks." I shook the man's hand.  


"I...I w-wanna stay with G-gee!" Frankie pouted.  


"Be strong, baby, this will be over soon." I caressed his face before retreating to my seat.  


I contemplated Taylor guiding Frankie to where Greg was waiting. The drummer wrapped his arms around him, comforting him like a father would. When the cop was again within my reach, I called him. "Excuse me...I need to give Frankie his meds. It's already past the time and it's very important that he have them. Would you please get me a knife, spoon, fork...anything I could use to grind the pills? Oh, and something for him to drink if possible," I solicited politely.  


"No problem." He patted my back. 

Two minutes later he was back with a spoon and a glass of orange juice. He lead me to the front desk -which wasn't as replete as the chief's- and handed me a clean piece of paper to work over.  


With the candy ball ready, I was only allowed near Frank to provide the medication. He took it eagerly, saying his head wasn't feeling good and if the voice in there started to talk it wouldn't let him tell the policemen what he wanted.

 ******

I was sick of that chair, sick of that cold wall, sick of seeing Frank just across the room and yet not having permission to break that distance.  


"I better go over there with Frankie," Tony decided.  


"Yes, please. I know he's scared even though he's trying to be strong for me. And tell him I love him?"  


"I will." He nodded. "You Ray...take care of your friend, he needs it."  


"Of course!" Toro stroked my hair, making me feel like a dog.  


Anthony didn't get too far when O'Hara stepped into the room and beckoned us both. "Iero, Way...follow me. I have some more things to converse with you two," he told us dryly. Great, a presumably homophobic chief of police in the same room with two gay men to discuss the fate of a third one. I was again wondering why it was that teleportation didn't exist for real.  


I found myself back into the suffocating, diminutive moldy room. A second chair had been placed beside the filthy plastic one I had used before. The cold I'd felt while sitting outside died right away and trails of sweat ran down my forehead. I discharged my jacket, pressing it in a ball against my chest like a child and his teddy bear. 

The squeeze Tony gave to my knee brought me back to reality and what O'Hara was saying.  


The first part of this double interrogatory featured the same questions I had already heard. Going by Anthony's face, I deduced he was having the same sense of deja vu. My guess was that the chief wanted to see if the other's presence would make us change our answers. Once he became aware that there was no kind of tension between Anthony and me, he went deeper.  


"Way, would you tell me why you didn't take Frank to a local police station as soon as you found him?"  


"I didn't..."  


"I think it's enough," Tony interrupted. "Gerard has already explained it all and so have I. I'm Frank's father and agree one hundred percent with what Gerard did. I wouldn't have wanted my son to end up in a crappy public madhouse."  


"Mister Iero, I'd rather you answer when asked."  


"I was gonna say the same, anyway. I thought that Frankie had suffered enough, that's why I brought him to live with me, he didn't deserve to be locked up again," I muttered.  


"You know what you did is against the law, right? That's appropriation of a person," O'Hara denoted.  


"I didn't _kidnap_ him, it wasn't against his will and he's not a minor," I countered.  


"Frank's mentally ill, he can't decide on his own."  


"That's bullshit, I must say. Who named some people God and granted them the power to give and take rights?" Anthony spat infuriated. "But okay, if Frankie's not allowed to make his own decisions then that's my place, isn't it? I think he did well going with Gerard and Gerard did well taking him in so I don't want him accused of _anything_. I support all of his actions. I wouldn't be with my son now if it wasn't for this boy, how could I think anything bad of him?"  


"Iero, you still have to prove that you're indeed Frank's father." O'Hara set Anthony's speech aside with that simple line.  


"I already showed an officer the documentation. I'm glad that I stole Frank's birth certificate from my ex's house one of the few times she let me in after he was born. I didn't trust her and I knew it might be of use in the future," Anthony retraced, revealing a part of the past that not even I knew.  


"Well, _I_ didn't see them," the man corrected. 

Tony passed him the improvised cardboard folder containing the documents, which the chief studied carefully. In the meantime, Anthony and I only exchanged some looks, but didn't dare voice any thought.  


"Ok, mister Iero, this proves that you're the father of an eighteen-year-old boy called Frank Anthony, however not that this is the same Frank that lives with Way," O'Hara finally concluded.  


"Oh come on, I know the ID is half destroyed, but what about the name and date of birth?" Anthony pointed at it. "What about the picture?"  


"It's not legally enough. There's no last name, place of birth or ID number. Even more important: the Frank Iero this birth certificate belongs to, died almost six months ago. How do you explain this, Iero?"  


"That's..."  


"I asked mister Iero. You, Way, better be quiet until addressed again," the cop cut me off.  


"Sorry."  


"Yes, I know Frank's 'legally' dead, he had his death faked _twice_ ," Tony spoke.  


"So you're telling me you have knowledge of this."  


"Yes, sadly." 

Iero told O'Hara everything about Linda, her man, and how they apparently faked Frank's death to get their hands on the money the boy's grandmother had left him. The policeman's pen traveled fast over the notebook, registering everything that was being said. Couldn't he at least get an old recorder?  


"How did you get to know about all this?" he released the next inquiry. 

I thought it was my turn. "Excuse me for butting in again... _I_ did. I might not have taken Frank to the police, but I did work on trying to find out if he had any more family apart from his mother. I started by calling all Ieros in the phone directory and talked to Anthony's mother. From then on I followed the hints and it all led me to what Anthony just told you."  


"Ok, we might have to go deeper into that later," O'Hara said. "Iero, after you found out about this...why didn't you do anything to prove that you're Frank's father and that he's alive?"  


"Because...before meeting me, Gerard had been threatened and even shot to stop him from investigating," he let out, and I nearly chocked. I'd been trying to keep that unsaid. 

The police chief eyed us weirdly while he checked some papers. When I suddenly read my name on one of them, I felt like all my blood abandoned my body.  


"Here it says you were shot _in a robbery_ a couple of months ago."  


"Y-yeah..." I nervously replied. "I lied because as Anthony said, I was threatened."  


"Are you sure the attack had to do with Frank?"  


"Yes, I am. Right before shooting me, one of those guys told me to stop investigating and to not let anyone know where Frank was or the next time they'd kill him."  


"Mister O'Hara, you must understand the reason why I chose not to do anything. It meant putting Frankie at risk when I had just found him!" Anthony contributed.  


"You should have denounced them."  


"We were scared! We _are_ scared, what we're telling you now here can have serious consequences, you know? Didn't you hear when I said Linda's boyfriend -or husband, I'm not sure- works for the government? He fucking knows everything!" The conversation had Anthony on edge.  


"Calm down, calm down! Do you know this man's name?"  


"No..." Tony shook his head.  


"No we don't, nor what his exact job is, but it must be a good position if he could have his way with feigning a person's death and even getting the director of a mental institution to support that," I opined.  


"Do you know the name of that institution?" the chief continued.  


"Yes..." I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote it down. I was going to look into my cellphone's memory for the number, but then remembered I only had Grace's there. No way I'd get her in trouble. "I don't have the number here."  


"It's ok, this will work. Anything else that could help us with this case?"  


"Yeah. Someone recommended me to talk to a judge, and he contacted the procurator that was in charge of Frank's money. That's how I knew of the inheritance, but the man seemed scared to go farther and refused to help me any more. I wouldn't have dared call him again after I was attacked, anyway."  


"Well, if you both agree, we can take legal measures about this. I don't care who the guy works for."  


"What do you mean?" Anthony asked the cop.  


"You can set a denounce against this woman Linda, since we do know her whole name," he developed the idea.

Anthony and I discussed it for a while. We were terribly scared of what could happen, but we also wanted Linda and her partner to pay for what they had done. Although this officer wasn't exactly nice, he appeared to be decent -a quality that wasn't easy to find- and hadn't backed off at the government mention. We finally agreed, having in mind that we'd need to be more careful and keep our eyes open to anything suspicious.  


"Alright. Now first, we'll check Frank's fingerprints to verify that he and the 'dead' Frank are the same person."  


"What about me?" I chimed in.  


"You'll have to wait. If mister Iero here is the boy's father, then he'll be able to decide what to do with your case and we might have this solved," O'Hara notified.  


" _Might_?"  


"Yes. Iero could choose to free you from any charges since he'd be responsible for the kid but...we still have to wait and see what the psychiatrist says."  


"I don't get it."  


"You'd be allowed to leave, but I'm not sure what the psychiatrist will consider best for Frank's mental health."  


"What?!" I exploded. "You or that psychiatrist are _no one_ to decide that!"  


Tony pushed me back into my chair. "Gerard, calm down."   


"But...Tony...you are Frank's father! If you're ok with our relationship that should be enough!"  


"It depends on the case, you better wait. It'd be easier if we could contact the boy's psychiatrist..." the cop said.  


"Good moment he chose to leave the country!" I thought aloud.

I didn't think Goldberg would have been too useful to be honest. As far as I knew, he was unaware of our relationship. In the beginning, I begged Frank not to tell his psychiatrist because I was afraid of his reaction. I eventually realised that what I'd asked him was too hard to carry out since he was supposed to tell the doctor everything he needed to know and answer all of his questions. I couldn't help it if Frankie felt like confessing, so I just tried not to think much about it. Nevertheless, every time I questioned him on the matter, he swore he hadn't told Goldberg. Time went by and Mark never mentioned anything, which took me to believe that Frank had actually kept the secret unsaid.  


******

"Wh-what are they g-gonna do to me, G-gee?" Frankie asked me scared. The medication had kicked in and he looked sleepy and as tired as we all were. 

Not giving a fuck about what the cops would say, I held him in my arms. I needed to feel his warmth, smell his strawberry scented hair. Its sweet smell lingered on even if we had been deprived of our daily bath that afternoon.  


What was their point, anyway? Even a real pervert wouldn't be as stupid as to abuse the boy in front of a bunch of cops, would he?  


"Don't be afraid, Frankie, it's nothing. It doesn't hurt, you'll only get your hands a little dirty 'cause they're gonna smear ink on them. See these circular marks on your fingertips?" I lifted his hand to his face and signaled to them.  


"Uh...no?" He squinted. The glasses couldn't do miracles for his sight, evidently.  


"Well...we all have them, they look kinda like spirals and are different in each person."  


"Ahh."  


"Once your fingers are coated with ink, they'll tell you to press them against a paper and those same marks will be left there. They're call fingerprints."  


"Oh I...I th-think I did th-that once! Y-yes I did, I f-forgot." He obviously had, years ago when his ID was renewed.  


"Yes, you did when you were younger. Now they'll compare the new fingerprints to the old ones and see that you're that same person. Do you understand?"  


"Y-yeah...think s-so..." He yawned.  


"And you know it's harmless..."  


"Y-yep."  


"That's my Frankie." I gave him a last quick hug. "Then go with your dad, everything will be fine."  


"K-kay." He kissed my nose and took the hand Tony offered, both disappearing towards the back of the place.

I was left there waiting with Ray and Greg. The wait seemed eternal. Soon we ran out of conversation subjects and were too nervous to come up with new ones. Or at least _I_ was. I couldn't even sit still for long, having to stand up and pace along the room every now and then so I wouldn't go crazy.  


Ray stood up too. "I'm gonna go buy something to eat, I'm starving."  


"Don't buy anything for me, my stomach is knotted," I told him.  


He rolled his eyes. "Gerard, you haven't eaten for hours..."   


"I had chocolate with Frankie in the afternoon and I'm _not_ hungry," I insisted. "Just buy me cigarettes."  


"Again with that? You don't _need_ to smoke. Besides, I don't even know if you're allowed to here," Ray said.  


"Yes, I _do_ need it now and I don't give a damn if I'm allowed or not. Having me here is unfair enough."  


"Ok, ok, suit yourself!" Ray turned his back on me and strode out of the building.  


How could everybody expect me to stay calm? Why should I stay calm while strangers conferred about my love life and whether it's correct for me to love who I loved? Why, when they were treating Frankie like he was totally incapacitated?  


"Everything's gonna be alright, Gerard." I felt Greg's strong, large hand on my shoulder. "It shows in your eyes that you're a good guy, and in the way Frankie speaks of you...no one can think you're bad for him."  


"Everybody's telling me that and I swear I'm trying to believe it." I forced a smile, giving myself some courage. "It _has_ to be alright...it will."

"Food is here!" Ray announced, a plastic disposable tray with five huge bacon and cheese sandwiches in his hands and a transparent bag with soda cans hanging from one of his arms.  


"I said I was not hungry," I declined when he put a sandwich in front of my face. "Just gimme my smokes."  


"You're insufferable, have a Coke at least." He shoved the can in my hand together with the pack of cigarettes.  


"F-FOOD!" we heard Frank's scream before we even saw him. He snatched the sandwich off Ray's hand with his stained ones and by the time I set my eyes on him he was already chomping it desperately. "I...I w-was dying! M-my tummy was t-talking all the time in th-there. D-dad heard it!" he spoke with a full mouth.  


"I did!" Anthony laughed.  


"Have your Sprite." Ray gave the hungry boy a can already open and with a straw in.  


"Th-thanks!"  


"I missed you, little baby." I took the chance to coddle Frank while no cop was in sight. He was busy eating, but the same he stayed very close to me, his head on my chest as my hand rested on his waist. "Oh, and you can have my sandwich too."  


"Yay! I l-love you so m-much!" he celebrated. Even if tired, Frankie was taking things better than me. Considering that he was usually really intuitive, his good mood may be a positive sign.

"What's the next step?" I asked Tony.  


"We have to wait even longer. They don't have the...technology to compare fingerprints here, so they must communicate with another police station. Luckily they _do_ have a scanner in this hellhole so they can send Frank's prints. Those idiots had implied that we'd have to wait until tomorrow, but I demanded that they did it right now."  


"What the fuck? I'm _not_ gonna sleep here!" I screamed.  


"Shh, you won't, I said that I told them to do it now."  


A new officer came to separate us. "End of chat!" 

While everybody ate, I just sipped at my Coke and smoked like crazy. Every time someone told me to put the cig down, I would only do so until I was left alone and could light it up again.  


One more hour we waited, incertitude corroding my brain and Frank's absence turning into unbearable as I tried to not look at him all the time. Sixty fucking long minutes until O'Hara made his non-unenthusiastic entrance with a simple paper between two fingers. 

The five of us jumped out of our seats and surrounded him. What he'd say was obvious to us, yet that didn't make the expectation any lower.  


"The fingertips matched, this boy here is Anthony Iero's son indeed. Well...who he accepted as his son at the moment of Frank's birth at least, since this is not an DNA test." The cop's attempt at being funny failed. "Anyway Iero, I honestly don't think you'd need one, just seeing your faces is enough to know you're related."  


"Oh my God..." Tony began to cry and hugged Frankie so desperately that he practically crushed the oblivious boy. It's not that he had any doubt, but knowing that he would now be Frank's father _officially_ moved him too much. That and the fact that his son wouldn't be dead to the world anymore. He'd get his identity back, which was surely important. So important that when I thought of it, I couldn't help crying too. 

Frankie had no idea of what was happening or why we were crying, that man hadn't said anything new to him; so when we told him we were happy he just frowned and declared us weird.  


"We'll modify the information in the databases and you'll have to come back soon with the boy to get a new ID done, ok?" the chief informed Anthony.  


"It's ok. Now, what do I have to do to free Gerard from charges?"  


"Follow me."  


"I don't think I've ever walked so much inside a same building as today. Not even in prison." Tony giggled. "Hold on, Gerard! This might be the last one!"  


Not much time went by before they were back, which surprised me; everything took ages there.  


"Done! I know you won't, but you _could_ go home if you wanted," Anthony confirmed.  


"There's more, right?" I read the concern in his face.  


"He said the psychiatrist is undecided about Frank's condition because he's too ambiguous."  


"What? No! They...they can't decide for him, they just...can't!" I shouted, terrified about losing Frank.What would they do if they thought it wasn't good for Frankie to be with me? Ban me from seeing him? Allow me to do it only under supervision? It didn't make sense, I didn't think any law should support that. We weren't talking about a child, but a young man.  


"Lower your voice _now_ ," an officer demanded.  


"Frankie's not a minor, Gerard. In my opinion, the most they can do is tell me what they _think_ would be the best for him, but I'd still have the last word about it," Tony exposed.  


"It's exactly as he says," the officer, who had heard us, told us. "I guess the boss wanted to scare you a little. If we were talking about a minor then it'd be different, they'd even have a judge intervene. But in _these_ situations it's actually the parents who decide what to do. As much, they might suggest that the boy be checked by our psychiatrist in the near future."  


"Good to know, and you should tell your boss that you just _don't_ play with these kind of things," I complained, the urge to punch them all growing on me.  


I was struggling with my feelings, ordering my head to stop worrying, screaming to my heart to be quiet. I got up, ready to go into each damn room until I found someone who could tell me what the fuck we were waiting for. Just then, the person who entered the station kept me in my place; or not exactly, since I ran to him.  


"Mark! You can't even imagine how happy I am to see you!"  


"Hello, Gerard. I just got back and my colleague told me everything..." he explained.  


"Oh, I..."  


"Don't say anything, just trust me." Goldberg raised a hand to stop me and then rushed to the chief's office.

The next time we saw Goldberg, close to midnight, he was in O'Hara's company and had a smile on his face. It was the cop who talked, though, with the help of some annotations. "Well Gerard, we have nothing more to object and you should thank this man for it." He didn't sound pleased. "Doctor Goldberg guaranteed -and even signed a responsibility document that could make him lose his title if his diagnosis was wrong- that Frank is mature enough on the sexual and emotional level to maintain a relationship of this kind. The psychiatrist also ensured that Frank has considerably improved since he met you and the bond has only affected him positively. He certificates that Frank Iero has never been forced to anything while living with you and that you have handled all situations correctly."  


"Does all that mean that I can hug and kiss my boyfriend now?" I questioned childishly.  


"What is this, a wedding? Uh, yes...you can, whatever." The cop sighed disgusted and walked away.  


"Frankie! Baby...everything's fine, you can come over here!" I shouted, gaining a dozen of killer stares. 

Frank was sleeping with his head on Tony's lap, but it only took him three seconds to wake up and cross the gap. He jumped unto me and initiated the kiss, arms around my neck and somnolent eyes full of love. The police station, the cold, the tiredness, the people around us all erased for as long as our magical moment lasted.  


"Mark...I have a doubt." I was more than confused after hearing what he had told the chief. "You _knew_ Frankie and I are boyfriends?"  


"Gerard...you really thought Frankie would be able to leave something as important as that unsaid? Your relationship is like the center of the universe to him, of course he'd tell me! He didn't want you to know that he'd confessed it, he said it was supposed to be a secret. I respected that, though after some time I asked him to comment it with you. He told me he had," he divulged.

I looked at Frankie who appeared to be deliberately glancing at anything but me. "Well, it seems we have a little liar here..." I quipped.  


"Oops!" Frankie giggled, his head still down, eyes spying us from over his glasses.

I chuckled and just pecked his lips, then talked to Goldberg again. "Why didn't you ever tell me anything, then?" I still found it incomprehensible that he hadn't talked to me about it.  


"Professional discreetness, it was Frank's petition. And as I said before, I thought you knew already so I was waiting for you to bring up the subject first. I didn't have an utter necessity of doing it myself because Frankie never showed any negative consequences. In these cases if something is wrong, we learn it right away from the patient."  


"Oh, ok. Anyway, I'd feel more comfortable if we had a talk about it soon."  


"I think it's a good idea," he accorded. "Well, I have to leave now so I'll see you both next week."  


"Good night, doctor. And thank you _very much_ for coming right away to help me."  


"You're welcome. I did because I know you, you didn't deserve to spend one more minute here."  


"B-bye, Mark! S-sorry for not t-telling Gee. I...f-forgot?" Frank grinned.  


"Bye Frankie, of course you're forgiven."

Goldberg left and I took in my surroundings. I realised that Anthony, Greg and Ray had been near us all the time as soundless onlookers; leaving me to solve my qualms and present my gratefulness to the psychiatrist on my own.  


"Is everything okay, Gerard?" Ray asked.  


"Yeah, I guess it is now." I smiled wearily.  


"G-gee...Gee, I c-can be Frankie for ev-everybody now?" my boyfriend said, confounding me. It was late and I was too exhausted to interpret him.  


"What do you mean, sweety? You _are_ Frankie..."  


"N-no but...you t-told me to play to be a b-big boy for t-today, remember? I t-tried but makes me t-tired to be F-frank and...and I think I d-don't do it too w-well. C-can I be F-frankie, now?" He waited for my answer with earnest projected on his pale semblance. 

I couldn't help laughing. "Yes, you can be Frankie again. It's not even Friday anymore, see?" I showed him my watch. "It's more than 12. And I think you did great, I'm very very proud of you, we all are."  


"Ah," he replied indifferently. "C-can we leave th-this place full of as-assholes and go home p-pretty please?" 


	65. Chapter 65

_We live our life in our own way,  
never really listened to what they say,  
the kind of faith that doesn't fade away.  
We are the true believers.  
We are the true believers._

We weren't able to leave the police station right away. There were still papers to sign and rants to hear. As one of the officers had predicted, we were told to bring Frankie back for a talk with their psychiatrist in no more than a month. He'd luckily liked the woman, which would be an asset when the time came to convince him to step into that place again.

O'Hara emphasized the importance of calling them if we happened to know anything about Linda's whereabouts. The same if we noticed any strange movement near our houses, thought we were being followed, or got any suspicious phone call. About that last point, he not only recommended me to change my phone number, but also assured me that they'd contact the phone company about it with no delay so I would get that done quicker. I didn't know if I should take him seriously, I still couldn't believe that the chief was being so considerate after thinking me a pervert. He most likely just wanted to escape responsibility in case we were attacked for denouncing Linda; but since that _was_ an actual probability, a little help was welcomed.

Frankie was rather happy and communicative during the last half an hour we spent there, feeling liberated from having to pretend. That worried me, though. When I told him he could be himself again, I did because I'd thought we were already leaving. Now I was afraid that the cops would notice him acting like a kid and change their minds. It relieved me to see that he had chosen to just pester Taylor around the station, assaulting him with tons of questions and getting his hands on anything the officer was working on. Walsh had been right about his mate, the guy was a real gentleman with all of us. I trusted him.

Once we were out and in Ray's car, Frankie's attitude changed completely. I first supposed he was just sleepy. When time went by and he was still staring out of the window wide awake, I knew there was something else. Up until then the situation hadn't seemed to affect him much, and I feared he could have been hiding more than I had asked him to. Anthony and I tried to make him talk, but Frank was lost in thought, completely absent.

 Ray stopped by Greg and Tony's small apartment building, and Iero was reluctant to get out of the car. He kept looking at his son, wanting to know what was in his mind, needing the certainty that he'd be alright. "I don't know Greg, maybe I should go with them..."  


"Tony...Frankie will be fine, I'm sure he's just very tired. We all are, come to sleep." His partner tugged at his arm, but Anthony was still hesitant.  


"Greg is right, you should go rest, I promise to call you in the morning and let you know how Frankie's doing," I offered. 

For some reason I felt that I had to be alone with my boyfriend. It wasn't selfishness, it's not that I wanted him all for myself; I was conscious of how much Frank's dad cared for him. Anyhow, I had this hunch that he'd speak once we were alone, that what was bothering him was something to do with me, with us.  


"Okay..."  


"Frankie, your dad's going home...give him a hug so he knows you're okay?" I whispered, stroking his entangled hair. 

Tony awaited, remaining in his spot like a statue while Greg stood outside holding the car door open. 

It took Frankie some seconds to get out of his contemplation and grasp the meaning of my words. Then he turned round and reached out over me for his father, embracing him and kissing his cheek. 

"G-good night, d-dad," he rasped. He had that voice when he'd been either crying too much or holding back tears. All the same, it could also be that my own weariness was making me over-dramatic and Frankie was just exhausted as Greg had guessed.  


"Good night, son. Do you feel alright?"  


"Y-yes, fine." Frankie smiled, a smile that didn't reach his eyes and none of us bought. 

Anthony didn't press further. "Ok, but if something's bugging you _please_ tell Gerard when you get home. Don't keep it inside, you don't need to play it strong for any of us." He gave the boy a last kiss on his forehead before finally leaving the car and heading inside, Greg's supportive arm around his shoulders.  


******  


I shivered when I took my jacket off. It had gotten a lot colder since we were forced to leave the previous afternoon, and with the heater off the house was a freezer. Even though I didn't like to sleep with it on because it wasn't safe, this time I thought it necessary. The device had been checked some days ago, so I at least knew it worked correctly.  


"Leave your jacket on until the house warms up a little, baby," I told Frankie, who had already unzipped it.  


"K-kay." He sat on the couch, staring at the lifeless TV screen blankly.  


"Or...do you wanna take the shower we couldn't take earlier?" I proposed, dying for a hot shower myself. I thought he would jump to the idea as usual, but I was wrong.  


"N-no, wanna s-sleep now. T-tired," he responded, and as much as my body was aching for that shower I couldn't leave Frankie alone. Especially not when it was obvious that he wasn't alright.  


"Ok, I'll go for our pajamas and we'll get changed near the heater." I smiled in an attempt to get a similar reaction. I didn't succeed.

When we were in bed and well wrapped up in blankets, again I tried to get Frankie to tell me what was wrong, but he insisted that he was only tired. He kissed my lips, wished me good night and closed his eyes, so I turned out the light and resigned to wait until the morning. It would be a long night, with so many things in my head that were bound to not let me sleep: the memories of that day, the possibility of losing Frankie that had been closer than ever. What would have I done if that had happened? I couldn't even imagine it, I didn't _want_ to. We were still together, it was better to leave the 'what ifs' out. Now I considered it more important to make sure Frank was fine. First that, then do something about Gabriel. If that jealous bastard thought that he could fuck with me like that without any consequences, he was absolutely mistaken. He'd pay. I had yet to come up with something, which I would as soon as I was rested.

Rest, nonetheless, didn't seem to be in the schedule for the night. When my eyelids were at last feeling heavy, my brain violently ordered them back up as the faint sound of crying penetrated my ears. In a matter of seconds, the lamp was on and my slumber forgotten. I was facing a distressful Frankie, his sobs becoming harder after our eyes met. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to tell me anything until he calmed down, I sat up and pulled him into my lap, tugging at the bed cover so we'd still be warm.

"S-sorry..." he babbled some minutes later. He was still breathing heavily, with no strength left to cry.  


"What are you sorry for, Frankie?" I asked.  


"Ev-everything." He sniffed. 

Then I remembered what he had told me earlier. "Babe...is it about what you said before? That you were to blame for what happened?"  


"Y-yes, my f-fault." He whimpered as if he was in pain. Something was making him feel so bad that it hurt. "I c-can't be normal. C-can't, Gee. N-never."  


"Shh, don't cry love, I don't want you to be normal, you don't have to. You already know that." My fingers unconsciously found the scar on the back of his head and massaged it. Frankie sighed and relaxed, the hand that had been in a tight fist now lying palm down on my chest. He was shaking, but I recognized it as the expectable shakes. "Tell me something, Frankie: do you know what happened? Did you understand why the police came looking for me?"  


"Y-yes...I gu-guess...for t-two things," he started. "Th-they think normal p-people can't be w-with special p-people. Y-you told me m-many think that. An-and..."  


"What else?" I encouraged him when he stopped and doubted.  


"Th-they thought you w-were like John, r-right?" he questioned. "'C-cause...'cause they as-asked me if you h-had made me d-do things I d-didn't want to d-do. L-like John. T-told them _no_ , I l-love you and you l-love me and...you d-don't hurt me."  


"They thought that, yes. But you were great in there and made them see that they were wrong, we all made them see that. Everything's fine now."  


"B-but it was m-my fault," he repeated.  


"Why do you think that?" I inquired. He needed to speak out his worries so I could help him.  


"'C-cause...'cause I'm not n-normal and...and it _sh-shows_ , ev-everybody can see. I t-try sometimes...to s-seem normal, but d-doesn't work. P-pills make my h-head better but...but d-don't make me m-more smart. N-nope. An-and I don't like wh-when kids call me r-retarded but I k-kinda am. I kn-know that. B-boys my age are m-more smart and g-go to school and l-like other th-things. I...I c-can't write with all th-the right letters and c-can't do calcu-lations and d-don't understand things w-well and I like to p-play with toys for l-little kids and g-go to the p-playground and...that. B-boys my age are n-not like me _at all_. I kn-know that and pills w-won't fix it. M-mark said and you s-said. S-so people will kn-know I'm special and g-get mad at you and...and I l-love you but c-can't be normal. S-sorry, Gee, my f-fault..." He began to cry again as he chaotically exposed how aware of reality he was.

It broke my heart to hear him say all that, _yet it was the truth_. He wasn't like boys his age, he most probably never would and pills couldn't fix it. People would always notice, many would think our relationship was wrong and I might have more problems in the future. All this said, there was something that Frankie needed to understand and never ever forget: I didn't mind. I loved him the way he was and I didn't care about what others could think. I would fight them all.

"Frankie..." I grabbed his tear-stained face and gave him a short peck on his parted lips. "...look at me and hear me very well, because I want you to always remember what I'm going to tell you."  


"K-kay." He nodded, a little scared of my tone. I didn't want him to get the wrong impression, so I kissed him again and smiled.  


"You, my love, are perfect to me. _Perfect._ When I fell in love with you I did with everything you are, and I never wished you were any different. On the contrary, I've wished I was like you. I don't care if you can only do easy calculations and you have to use your fingers for it. I don't mind the way you write as long as you keep adding those lovely messages to your drawings. I have all the time in the world to explain things twice, thrice or as many times as necessary and it'll never bother me or annoy me. Never be afraid of asking me whatever you need to know. What else? I love watching you play with your toys, I love playing with you and you should never stop doing what you like. I'll always enjoy taking you to the playground and you must not think about what boys your age do, they're the ones missing the fun. You know what? Next time, if you and Mel agree, I'll play with you two."  


Frankie chocked with the tears. "I th-think she'll like th-that."   


"Good! And...lastly: I don't give a fuck what people will say. Sure, they'll probably always notice that you're special, but if they dare say something we'll just ignore them. You don't have to be ashamed or try to be 'normal', just be yourself, ok?"  


"K-kay."  


"Understood? No more guilt?" I poked him. 

He was still serious. "N-no more."  


"Don't worry, nothing like what happened yesterday will happen again because now they know Tony's your dad. He agrees with us being together, so no one can take you away from me," I added.  


"P-promise?"  


"Promise!" I raised my open hand as a sign. "Now, you have to stop crying 'cause there's no reason to be sad."  


"I...I'm not s-sad anymore." Frankie shook his head. "I'm c-crying 'cause I'm h-happy and I l-love you and...and you l-love me and are s-so nice to me."  


"Oh, really? Didn't you say your dad and I were weird 'cause we cried out of happiness?" I teased and he laughed. He cried again, laughed, kissed me and giggled. He was a mess of emotions hiding with me under an improvised tent. It was warm and cozy inside and we were close, so close.  


"I...I th-think I'm w-weird too!" Frankie grinned as more and more of his tears fell on my face. I looked up at him and knew I could overcome anything, everything.  


******

My thirst for vengeance woke me up earlier than I would have wanted. Somehow the resentment had stayed alive all through the night, crawling into my dreams, giving me ideas and prompting me to execute them. I wasn't proud of the way I felt, I'd never been one to take revenge but Gabriel had gone too far. He had put me on the brink of losing who I loved the most in this world. What he did had indirectly forced Frankie to face the cruelest side of his reality, made him cry and feel guilty. Gabriel had thrown me there to be judged, he had pushed us into a stressful, awful situation dragging two more people with us. I couldn't let that pass. If his precarious, fucked up mind couldn't comprehend in a nice way that I'd never go back to him, then he would have to taste some of his own medicine.

My old phone notebook still held that number I had so many times called in the past, always making a prior mental note to announce myself as 'Gerard, Gabe's _friend_ ' if his parents answered. I didn't need that this time as my fingers quickly pressed the numerical keys, slightly aggravated when I realised I still knew it by heart. Memory's a bitch; no wonder why I couldn't remember important dates or numbers sometimes, my hard disk was full of pointless rubbish.

"Hello?" a grave male voice greeted me, the one I wanted to hear, motivating me to assume a Freddie-Mercury triumphal pose.  


"Good morning, sir," I answered politely, finding it hard to refrain from laughing. "I'm Gerard, Gabriel's ex boyfriend."  


"Gerard? Uh...what do you mean?" He sounded confused.  


"Oh, I haven't called in more than a year so you maybe don't remember me, do you?" I went on innocently.  


"No...I _do_ remember you, Gerard. But...what kind of joke is this?"  


"What do you mean, sir? I made no joke..."  


"You said you were my son's ex boyfriend. I guess you wanted to say friend, right?" he inquired hopefully. 

I had to stifle my giggles with a hand. "No, I actually meant _boyfriend_. Oh, wait...he never told you? I'm sorry, sir, I..."  


"Never told me what?" the man raised his tone.  


"That we were a couple?"  


"That's not true, my son's not gay!" he spat angrily. "He had a girlfriend while he was hanging out with you and he also has one now!"  


"Ah yeah, he's into coverups," I responded calmly. "I hoped he'd change after our last talk, but it seems he's still the same fake asshole."  


"This is enough, Gerard," he pronounced my name with despise. "If you have a problem with Gabriel then call later and discuss it with him. You know he's working at this hour."  


"It's not necessary...wait, don't hang up! Would you just pass him some messages?" I requested, concealing my amusement.  


"Only if you stop this shit."  


"It's no shit sir, I repeat. Well, tell him he better not dare fuck with me again -no pun intended- or I'll be the one denouncing him next time. I won't, under any circumstance, go back to him. He lost me _irremediably_ since the moment he decided to lure girls into being his girlfriends so he could introduce them to his family and hide the oh-so-shameful fact that he was fucking me -this pun intended- behind their backs. _Me_ , a fag, Gabriel's _boyfriend_."  


"What the...?"  


"I didn't finish. Also tell Gabriel to please rethink my advise and ask for professional help, he can't hide what he is all his life. Acceptance is the key to happiness, he needs to understand that."  


"This is unac-"  


"Have a good day, mister Schneider. Make sure you give your son my message, it's important," I concluded before hanging up. That's when I couldn't help it anymore and got into a fit of hysterical laughter. I was being childish but I didn't give a fuck. I felt accomplished, avenged; knowing Gabriel would certainly get my 'message' and the confession he had always ran away from would be now unavoidable.  


"Wh-why you laughing, G-gee?" a half-asleep Frankie asked, staring at my convulsing figure that was sprawled on the floor. 

I sat up and took a deep breath to regain my composure. "I...uh...am happy." I snickered some more at my stupid reply. 

He yawned, unable to assimilate my oddity. "C-can we sh-shower now please? M-my hair's all eww."  


"Definitely! My hair's ten times ewww." I ran my hands through my greasy mane and trailed behind my boyfriend who marched like a zombie towards the bathroom. 

No one interrupted us this time.  


******  


Frankie had a few nervous episodes during the first days that followed. Then things went gradually back to normal and his mind was again set on his birthday. The boy could be _incredibly_ irritating and insistent -he could and he _was_ \- when something interested him too much. In spite of that, we kept our mouths shut about the surprise, never giving in in to his impatience or his sweet methods of persuasion. I had feared Anthony would yield when having his son begging on his knees or crying dramatically, but the man proved to be remarkably strong when it came to making something special out of Frank's first birthday with us.  


On Monday, Anthony and Frankie had gone for Frank's new ID. He was disappointed that he couldn't leave with the document right away, though they were told that it would be done soon. Tony took the chance to ask about Linda's pursuit and the news wasn't too encouraging. The police hadn't been able to find out anything about her or where she could be, and they believed she might have changed her name after getting her hands on the money. They had now started an investigation over the state where Linda used to live, contacting the authorities to ask for a list of people who had worked for the government within a certain period of time. I honestly didn't understand what they'd do with it. Go after each of them just in case? The judge had told them the name of the procurator -the only possible source of useful information from my point of view- and they were still trying to get in touch with him. He seemed to be missing in action at the moment.

The only good thing about it all so far was that O'Hara had surprisingly lived up to his promise: my phone number had been changed in no time. Calling everybody I knew -including my father- to inform them of that, in many cases making up excuses for the change, wasn't my favorite activity; but our safety was worth it.

Another outcome of Gabriel's 'brilliant idea' was our neighbors' inquisitiveness. They had seen the police cars in front of our house, they'd pried into the scene and knew we had left with them. I suspected that a couple of nosy old ladies had even been alert to our arrival time. As expected, questions were the order of the day and I had no answers ready. When the first neighbor approached me, I was terrified that they might have asked the cops. They could have reached their own conclusions and now be waiting to condemn me like a creepy sex offender. It wasn't like that, though; they knew nothing and were just worried. I couldn't tell them the truth so I had to improvise. The first thing that came to my mind was that the police had caught some guys that could be the ones who robbed us and shot me, and they wanted me to go identify them. My neighbors believed me, I had become a very good liar. I added that it had been a false alarm and they left me alone.  


******  


Halloween was finally here and I had taken the day off. Knowing the reason behind it, Sarah hadn't objected to it. She said it wasn't necessary that I worked on Saturday instead -as I'd told her I would- but I stuck to my opinion that it was only fair and she didn't discuss it with me anymore.

The day before Frankie and I had carved a pumpkin together. Since he wasn't allowed to use knives, I first let him draw a face on it with a marker so then I could trace the lines with a knife. It wasn't a scary pumpkin but a happy, funny one. We set it at the front of our house where everybody could see it. It was our only decoration because we would spend the date at my mom's, anyway.

That morning, to wake up my birthday-boy, I brought him breakfast. I had conveniently included a pumpkin-shaped helium balloon attached to one of the tray's holey corners, and a plastic Frankenstein mask beside the bowl of cereal. Frankie quickly put on his glasses, observed everything and grinned.

"Happy birthday, love!" I exclaimed.  


"TH-THANK YOU!" he screamed, kissing me excitedly. Next, he discarded the glasses back and replaced them with the mask. "I...I'm s-scary?"  


"Yes you are, but I wanna see your face now!" I pushed the mask up, accommodating it on a side of Frank's head and restoring his glasses. 

He grabbed a hand mirror we kept over the night stand and looked himself in it. "Eww G-gee, shave m-me?" Frankie screwed up his nose. 

I watched him closely. His face, indeed, showed the subtle signs of stubble, though it never got too noticeable. His hair was embroiled and also curlier than ever due to the humid day, and he had pillow marks on his cheeks. Yet he looked sweet and adorable, beaming like a five-year-old.  


"I will after you have breakfast," I assented, retrieving the camera that Ray had forgotten the previous day to take a picture of Frank. It was one of those moments you wanted perpetuated.  


"N-no, asshole! D-don't take p-pics of me like th-this, I'm ug-ugly!" he complained, slapping my hand.  


"You look beautiful," I corrected him, and photographed us kissing.

"Wh-what's the s-surprise? N-now's my b-birthday so you can t-tell me!" Frankie jump-started the first round of the day, just when I thought that he would maybe just wait and see.  


"Not yet."  


"T-tell me _now_."  


"Have your breakfast."  


"F-first you tell m-me."  


"First breakfast."  


"N-no! F-first you t-tell me!" He glared at me with his arms folded on his chest.  


"Ok." I got up. "Then I'll leave and take this tray with me since you don't want it."  


"N-no no no n-no! I w-want it! B-but then you t-tell me, k-kay?"  


Frankie never stopped demanding me to tell him. He wouldn't try to guess; he found it more entertaining to ask non-stop, not giving me more than five-minute-long breaks while he had his mouth too occupied eating. 

By the afternoon, when we were freshly clean and getting ready to leave, I didn't know how to put up with him anymore.  


"G-gerard!" He shook my arm violently. "T-tell me tell me t-tell me tell m-me tell..."  


"Please! Shut up already?" I silenced him with a kiss. "Please please please please?"  


He shoved me away. "Y-you don't love m-me nothing, e-evil person!"   


"I love you _lots_ , but I want you to shut up and stop insisting because I won't tell you anything and you're just making my head hurt. It's a _surprise._ You don't tell surprises 'cause then it's not a surprise anymore," I explained, praying that he would finally get it.  


"I d-don't like s-surprises. N-nope," he stated.  


"You'll like this one."  


"Y-you're like...s-super very m-mean," he whined, tossing a pair of jeans at my face.  


"I love you."  


"T-tell me?" He gave me his most seductive smile as a new tactic. Tempting, but I had to stay strong. I'd resisted for near two weeks, I had to be able to resist a few more hours.  


"Choose something to wear already. The longer you take, the more you'll have to wait to see the surprise."  


"K-kay, cruel m-man!" He went back to picking up clothes, still murmuring. "P-poor Frankie t-treated so bad on h-his birthday...n-not fair."  


"Quit the drama and get dressed, babe, I can still hear you."  


******

Like every year for that date, my mother's garden was fully decorated. Paper lanterns, garlands, candles along the center path, and a huge pumpkin with cardboard glasses similar to Frank's -a lovely detail for sure- over a wooden crate in the porch. 

Frankie ran from side to side, looked around and began to jump out of happiness, giggling to himself and clapping hands. He had related how they would adorn the institution for Halloween and then go trick-or-treating always inside of it. They'd get sweets from doctors, nurses, cooks and some parents that were visiting. Ironically, they weren't able to keep them and would only get one every few days. Frankie said he loved it the same, but I could feel that this Halloween and birthday were going to be extra special. He knew it was all for him, _his_ day, with a family of his own. 

I gave him some time to enjoy before I took his hand again. "Come on, there's more inside."  


I unlocked the door with my keys and the first thing that caught our eyes was a large sign hanging from wall to wall. It read: _'Happy Birthday, Frankie! We love you!'_ in festive black and orange letters. Same as the outside, the house was ornamented with several garlands and Halloween themed candles; also smaller pumpkins, balloons, and silhouettes of witches and bats cut out in paper on the walls and doors.

My mother received us dressed up in an old nurse uniform. Fitted, rigid and completely white, though the passage of time had made the fabric go yellow. It even featured the classic silly hat. Frankie eyed her up and down and blinked repetitively while I just laughed.

"Happy birthday, sweety! And happy Halloween too!" She opened her arms for him.  


"H-happy Halloween, m-mom!" He jumped forward. 

I didn't know how she did it, but my mother had gotten used to enduring Frank's affectionate attacks and even held him up in her arms for a while every time they saw each other. Another super power that came along with mother love, I supposed.  


"Your present's over the table." She put him down and pointed. Frankie was there in the blink of an eye.

"Mom...did you break into the hospital's ancient trash room or what?" I mocked her outfit.  


"Nah, it belonged to a friend from work's mother, she wore it back in the forties. But tell me...was it _too_ bad?" 

I knew what she meant with her question. "Yeah, _very_ bad! I don't know how I didn't give in and tell him just to shut him up! I love Frankie to death, but when he's annoying...he's _mega_ annoying."  


"You gotta put yourself in his place, Gerard. The poor kid never had so many people taking care of him, and I'm sure never ever a party organized specially in his honor..." mom reasoned.  


"I know, that's why I kept my patience." I nodded, imagining it must be all very overwhelming for Frankie. "I also had in mind that what happened last week affected us both."  


"Son...forget about that, we're having a party today." My mother smiled. She had been beyond worried when I told her of our night at the police station -and angry because I hadn't called her.  


"Ok."  


"L-look, Gee! L-lots of g-games!" Frankie came showing me a shoe box with at least ten Nintendo cartridges inside. You could easily get those for little money, but it was all my mother could afford since she had spent it all on Frank's costume and the decorations for the party. Anyway, it was a super present in Frank's eyes.  


"You like them?" she asked.  


"Y-yes! Th-thanks, mommy D-donna!" He substantiated his words with one of those hugs that made her melt.  


"Mom, where's Mikey?" I questioned.  


"At Alicia's, they'll be here in minutes. You go change and I'll help Frankie."  


"Ch-change?"  


"Go with mom and you'll find out." I smirked. He didn't need to be told twice.

I produced the costume I had carefully hidden in my bag while Frank was still asleep. It was old and I had worn it before, but Frankie had never seen it and I didn't have money to get a new one. I was soon ready, so I embarked myself on make-up application. I stared into the mirror and grimaced, meditating my next actions. Everybody said I was pale as snow, why add more whiteness? I just rimmed my eyes with black, added a little red here and there, and retouched my hair with the help of Mikey's straightener. I had thought of bringing my crappy plastic teeth, but I didn't want anything obstructing my speech; people were completely right when they said I could never shut up.  


Fumbling with my black and red cloak, I sat on the couch to wait for Frankie. My mom hadn't told me what she'd been concocting for Frankie since two weeks ago. My curiosity about the secret costume was killing me.  


With the result finally in front of me in the form of an exotic blue-bird Frankie, I thought it was stunning. My mother had transformed simple sweat pants and a long sleeved t-shirt into the most awesome outfit. She had sewed lots of thin, blue pieces of a light material superimposed, not leaving a single inch free. They looked so much like feathers that it was incredible.  


"L-look, wings!" Frankie showed me blissfully, lifting both arms. 

The sleeves were connected to the sides of the shirt by an ample annex of fabric covered in longer fake feathers. When he turned round, I spotted the tail. Contrary to those of real birds, this one hung limp from his coccyx, ending in three tips. I guessed my mother wanted Frankie to still be able to sit comfortably, that's why she had kept it practical.  


 Finally, I examined Frank's head. He wore a blue knitted cap, the feathers there not fake but genuine -or at least very good replicas. They looked like elegant, flexible stalks with graceful plumes at the ends. Some were bended backwards like a crest, while a few fell in front of Frank's forehead. His eyes were delineated in bright red with artistic curled details at the outer corners, although he necessarily had his glasses on. The contours of a beak had been drawn around his mouth, which was a wise choice. To get him a plastic one would have been pointless since he'd get rid of it right aways so it wouldn't bother him to eat. To complete the set, he had bird-paw fluffy slippers on his feet.

"Awww!" I exclaimed loudly, squeezing my feathered boyfriend.  


"Gerard! Don't go and ruin his make-up before the others see him!" my mom scolded me when I was about to kiss Frank.  


"Okayyy..." I protested. "But wow, mom! You did a _great_ job, it must have taken you a lot of time...and cost you a lot of money..."  


"Shut up, Frankie's my son too and he deserved it. It was inspired by a blue bird he once saw in a magazine. He showed it to me and said he'd love to have one. I can't get him one of those birds, but I thought he'd like to become one for a day!"  


"Oh, I didn't think it even had a back story, it was an awesome idea mom, you're the best."  


"Sh-she is, I l-loved it!" Frankie hopped around until he stopped in front of me with a weird smile on his lips and a particular shine on his eyes.  


"What...?"  


"G-gee...you l-look oh so v-very handsome and...and...uh...s-sexy! Y-yes... _sexy_ ," he cooed suggestively. 

My mother and I glanced at him and then at each other skeptically, only to end up laughing hard. Frank's sudden changes could be bewildering.  


"Oh, child." She shook her head, amused.  


"Th-this was the s-surprise? L-loved it like a wh-whole lot!" Frank cried out, completely satisfied with what he had gotten so far.  


"Well, you still have to see the other guests, so there will be more surprises!" I mentioned.

The doorbell rang and Alicia appeared in a lovely Snoopy costume. You could only see her face, the tip of her nose painted black. This time Frankie squealed first, though as soon as Alicia saw him they were _both_ squealing so loudly that mom and I had to cover our ears.  


"And Mikey?" I asked while Frankie ran to the couch with a new present in his hands: two more Shrek action figures to join his Donkey.  


"Here!" Alicia reached out towards the open door, dragging a very embarrassed Mikey inside. He looked similar to Frankie, only yellow; and his costume was in one peace which made my brother seem fat for the first time in his life. I assumed that -to match his girlfriend- he was Woodstock, the bird-like creature.  


"M-mikeyyy! W-we're two b-birds!" Frankie screamed and hugged my brother, who hugged back with a resigned sigh.  


"Oh fuck, this is gonna be a long night..."  


"Don't they looked perfect together?" Alicia threw her arms around the boys' shoulders.  


"Al...you _knew_ Frankie would be a bird too, didn't you?" Mikey discerned his girlfriend's mischievous look.  


She smirked. "Perhaps!"   


"Why...?"  


"Uh...I thought it'd help you bond with Frankie?" Her smirk mutated into an angelic smile.  


"Fuck you?"  


"Mikey! We're at Frankie's party now! Can't you wait until later?" She walked away shaking her hips, making her little dog tail dance.  


"Gerard..." my brother scanned me. "...why do you have to be so predictable? Out of the...let's say fifteen times you've dressed up for Halloween in your life, you've been a vampire for ten!"  


"So what? I like vampires and it suits me. What's more...Frankie said I looked sexy."  


His eyes got huge. "He said _what_?"   


"He's turning 19 today..." mom reminded him.  


"Yeah, I know but...uh...nevermind."

Ray and Bob arrived together. Toro as an Indian, being thankful for my mother's fireplace. The warm environment made it possible for him to get rid of his heavy jacket and display his practically naked torso, only covered by an open brown leather vest with fringes. The pants were some worn out old corduroys that he had added some leather strips to. Bob...he was a firefighter, including the helmet and a hose roll on his shoulder. I had no idea where he had gotten the uniform, but it was a real one.  


"Don't all Indians have straight hair?" Mikey joked, laughing at Ray whose afro stuck out savagely from under a hairband of feathers.  


"Don't birds usually fly?" Ray shot back.  


"Who said I can't?"  


"Show me!"  


"M-mikey, you can f-fly? I j-just tried but c-couldn't and hurt m-my ass..." As much as I wanted to believe Frank's last comment wasn't true, the way he was rubbing his backside told me otherwise.  


Alicia reappeared behind her boyfriend. "Oh, he might...if I kick his butt hard enough!"   


"Shut up, sack of fleas."  


"Nevah, feather ball!"

The sight of Ray and Bob together brought me to a sudden discovery that distracted me from Mikey and Alicia's classic bickering. "Oh my God, Village People!"  


"What?" Ray -who was talking to Frankie about some CDs he'd brought him- looked at me bemused.  


"I just realised!" I giggled.  


"You realised... _what_?" Bob was clueless.  


"Wait...you didn't accord to dress like that beforehand?"  


"No," Ray replied. "Bob called me earlier to ask for a ride, but at no moment we said how we'd dress up."  


"Oh, but then this is even better! Without planning it, we got two members of Village People!"  


"Village people didn't even have a fireman..." Toro noted.  


"Uh..." I tilted my head, thinking. I automatically related those kind of costumes to tough, stripper-ish looking, not-too-manly men. Therefore, Village People. "You're right. They did have a song called 'Firemen', though. So it's not hard to imagine them having an extra member dressed like one!"  


"How come you two know _so_ much about Village People?" Bob frowned. "No, wait, don't tell me."  


"Wh-what's Vill-age People?" Frankie asked.  


"A very gay old band of gay people who wore very gay outfits to sing even gayer songs and dance well...you get the idea," was my brother's explanation.  


"If...if they're g-gay then they're aw-awesome!" Frank opined knowingly.  


"They are! I'll find some of mom's cassettes later so you can hear them, and we'll make Bob and Ray dance." I clapped my hands like an overexcited, flamboyant vampire. I must have looked bizarre.  


"Y-yes, I'll d-dance with th-them!"  


"No way!" Ray and Bob cried out.  


"Way. _Two_ ways actually, so we win. You'll dance," I exacted.

Frankie had already launched himself into the pumpkin-shaped cookies when we heard a car's strident honk. My mom looked through the peephole and gasped. "Everybody out, you gotta see this!"

The 'Homeless Mobile' was parked in front of the house, only it looked pretty different. The white van was dressed up for the occasion just like us...as an improvised pirate ship. Timbers and nails drawn on brown paper to simulate wood, semi covered windows to make them round, a plastic anchor hanging on a side and a huge black flag with the famous skull and crossbones symbol buried in a flowerpot on top of the vehicle.  


"ANCHORS AWEIGHT!" someone screamed from the inside with a husky voice. 

We were all paralyzed by the spectacle, anxious to see the ship's crew. I doubted that Frank would be able to close his mouth after this day.  


All but Anthony got out, all of them pirates and with similar costumes except for some details. Paul was a humble version of Captain Hook; with a curly, long haired wig and the obligatory hook on his right hand. Trevor had a patch over his left eye and a couple of teeth painted black to make it seem like he was missing them. Greg's main characteristic was a fake pegleg. It was really just a thick tree branch, attached to one side of his black-sock-covered leg with duct tape and partially hidden under his pants. He also wore a red bandanna and big earrings. Jake had made such a tangle out of his naturally long hair that I didn't think he'd ever get rid of it. Other than that he presented a scar across one eye and a golden tooth.

Victor came last, exhibiting that unamused expression we had grown so accustomed to. He had huge boots -a buckle made of metallic paper added to them- over his old dress-up pants that were held in place by a ridiculously large belt. None of that was too different from what his partners were wearing; it was the rest of the costume what let me understand his discomfort, and I knew who the culprit was when I saw Paul doubled over with laughter. Victor's shirt was _pink,_ with bulged sleeves and pompous frills on the chest. His eyes carried more eyeliner than any of the other's and a silly plushy parrot was sat on his shoulder.  


"No one...say...a word," he warned.  


"Oh come on, Vic! I told you it was all I could find!" Paul chuckled.  


"Why didn't _you_ wear it, then?"  


"'Cause it was the only one that fit you, darling!" he essayed an effeminate tone and got out of the pianist's reach before he could punch him.  


Frankie was in a dream; walking along the line of pirates, analyzing every detail with eyes and hands. He hadn't even remembered to ask for presents, what he was seeing was enough. 

Suddenly, while he was climbing on Greg's back, he noticed someone was missing. "Wh-where's my d-dad?"  


"True...where the fuck's Anthony?" I shared the curiosity.  


"Ladies and gentleman...meet Captain Tony Iero!" Greg announced.  


"Ahoy, me Hearties!" There he was, a cheap copy of Jack Sparrow. Pirate hat, wig with dreadlocks and beads and the rest of accessories. The long coat had been replaced by a black leather one, but with a little bit of imagination it worked the same. 

Even thought I wouldn't admit it aloud for obvious reasons, I thought he looked hot. It wasn't _that_ weird for me to think that since he and Frank were so alike.  


Frankie slid off Greg's back and ran to his father. "D-dad, you look so aw-awesome!"  


"Happy birthday, matey!" Tony greeted him.  


"H-how you c-called me?"  


"Don't mind me. Happy birthday, son! You're the most cutest bird I've seen!" He took Frankie's hand and we all got inside the house, leaving the curious neighbors that had gathered around us behind.  


"Damn good idea you had, uh?" Victor complained to no one in particular. "With all the shit you glued on the van, now it's gonna be all stained and who's gonna clean it? Me, of course, like always! Everybody has fun and Victor cleans up your messes."  


"Is it me or there's a conspiracy against you, man?" Mikey patted his back in an understanding way. Come to think of it, they had very similar personalities. "The van, your clothes..."  


"There is, it's evident!" the guy groaned.  


"Well, at least we're two...look at what my girlfriend made me wear! This is not serious!"  


"Halloween is _not_ supposed to be serious, sweetheart," Alicia correctly remarked.  


"But Al... _a fucking yellow bird!_ And the neighbors saw me! With which face am I gonna look at them tomorrow? You do it on purpose, woman!"  


"Women -just like gay friends- can be the work of the devil, I tell you," Victor philosophized. "They just _love_ to embarrass us."  


"Mom, are you sure Mikey's Donald's son too?" I inquired.  


"Yes, I'm sure! Why?"  


"Ah, ok. I wouldn't have been surprised if you'd told me you had an affair with Victor, though."  


"Gerard!" she reprimanded me, going back to the kitchen. I didn't dare glance at where Victor was because I knew he wouldn't be pleased with my making fun of him, same as my brother.

Only a little later, after a lot of chatter and some dance, my mother and I were replenishing the trays of sweet treats when Frankie came to us. "M-mom, all the sur-prises are here n-now?"  


"I think they are, baby," I answered for her. "Do you like your party?"  


"Y-yes! V-very very very m-much! B-best Halloween and b-birthday ever!"  


"There's one more surprise," my mother let go.  


"Uh...what?" I had no idea what she was talking about, everybody was already there.  


"Gerard doesn't know it either, only Ray and I," she continued.  


"What is it, mom? Tell us!"  


"Now you sound like Frankie..." she sang.  


"Oh shut up, tell me!"  


"There it is!" She pointed at the door just when someone was calling. 

Frankie beat us at getting it, but we followed him close.  


We were met by a rather short, pudgy woman wearing an old fashioned, black night dress that reached to her ankles. She'd complemented it with battered high heeled shoes and lots of bracelets and necklaces. Her red hair was up in a bun, and her face concealed by a white mask with butterfly wings around the eyes and glitter all over. The somewhat winkled skin of her hands told me she was at least close to 60.  


"Welcome!" My mom smiled. 

I stood there waiting for an introduction. Frankie was silent, frozen, completely static staring at the mysterious person.  


"Happy birthday, Frankie," the woman said. 


	66. Chapter 66

**CHAPTER 66**

_Say the deeper the river, then the stronger the love.  
Your eyes don't lie to me, and your smile is worth its weight in gold.  
This life...this life aches, and this life moans.  
This life...this life is great, and it's better when you're not alone._   


"G-grace?" Frankie muttered, staring astonished at the woman who was still standing by the door. 

She removed her mask, revealing kind features. It was one of those faces that immediately told you the person couldn't hold anything other than good feelings. Her bright, gray eyes made you feel calm, they spoke of love and care. The wrinkles surrounding them silently narrated a million stories, and were also the evidence of countless smiles. She wore make-up, though it was obvious to me that it was just part of her costume. I pictured her clean-faced in my mind, with the natural beauty granted by time. This woman was exactly as I had imagined her when hearing her voice on the phone, when looking at Frankie's eyes while he'd talk about her.  


I was greatly surprised, but Frankie was thunderstruck. He was pale, looking as if he had stopped breathing. His lips moved, but no sound managed to escape from them. We watched worried, unable to move as he took some steps backwards and fell to the floor gasping for air. His emotions exceeded him, and I then knew that he had missed the nurse more than he'd ever expressed.  


Grace dropped her purse and ran to Frank, catching him just before he passed out. "Oh God, I'm so stupid...I should have let him know I'd come." She picked him up with that same amazing strength my mother possessed and sat down on the chair I brought, holding Frankie on her lap like a baby.

"Don't blame yourself, Grace, Donna and I agreed...it was actually _my_ idea to keep it secret," Ray told her guiltily. "Pleased to finally meet you, by the way."  


"Pleased to meet you, Ray, I recognized your hair from Frank's descriptions!" She smiled to my friend before returning her attention to Frank, who was recovering consciousness. "Are you okay, Frankie?"  


I knelt in front of them, touching my boyfriend's cheek. "Baby, how are you?" 

Anthony followed close and asked the same questions with a panicked expression; fixing the locks of hair that stuck out of Frank's bird cap hiding part of his face. 

Frankie looked around, at each of us, finally setting his eyes on Grace. He seemed confused, not completely lucid.  


"Drink a little water, birdy." My mother offered him a glass, holding it up to his lips since he wouldn't react. "Slowly...very good."  


"I think he's better now. Are you, kiddo?" Grace asked. 

Frankie gazed at her, tears running freely down his cheeks and smudging the red eyeshadow. "M-missed you so...so m-much..." He sobbed and clung to her with such impetus that I thought they'd both fall off the chair. There he stayed, arms around his old protector's neck and head leaned on her shoulder. No words, Frank still wasn't ready to speak. He only needed to feel that familiar embrace, the one that had comforted him for ten years.  


We waited, wanting to respect their moment; but after a while we were all dying to talk to the famous Grace. The nurse spared me the nerves of being the first when she decided to break the silence herself. "Frankie chose very well, you're a very handsome vampire, Gerard."  

Frank didn't change his position, I couldn't tell if he was even awake by then.   


"I...uh...thanks." I knew I was blushing, my brother's snickers confirmed it. Even though I had it clear that Grace was absolutely fine with my relationship with Frank, it was kind of a shock to have her in front of me. I felt weird, I became extremely shy. "You're just as I thought you'd be."  


"Is that good or bad?" she joked, noticing my anxiety.  


"Good! You look like the great person I know you are."  


"Thank you, Gerard," she paused and her eyes -which she had wiped minutes ago- produced new tears. "thank you _so_ much for everything you've done for Frankie...and thank you for loving him so much."  


"You don't need to thank me for that." I sniffed. "I couldn't help loving Frankie, it was meant to happen and I've never been happier in my life. I'd rather thank _you_ for being like a mother to him when he didn't have anyone else."  


"Oh, but that was also meant to be! Since the first day I saw him when he was only 8, I _knew_ that he needed someone to take care of him more than anyone else there. His grandma was crying, gathering the courage to do what she had to do. Frankie was clutching her hand with a lost stare, with far more sedatives in him than should be given to a little kid. Then...he looked at me and said: 'Who's you? Where house?' It broke my heart and conquered it at the same time." She had never mentioned that detail about their first encounter. I pictured it all in my head, a bittersweet scene.  


I heard someone crying behind me. When I turned round, I saw Tony in Greg's arms, a big wet spot on the drummer's white pirate shirt. Everybody else's eyes in the room were shining with tears. I thought it'd be better to change the subject, it was a party after all so we shouldn't be crying. 

I was still very curious about the plot behind my back involving Grace, Ray and my mother, so that was my new topic. "Grace...why did I never know you'd come? When did you decide it?" I questioned. 

She glanced at my mother and they laughed. 

"I told you he'd go all crazy about the fact that he didn't know!" Mom rolled her eyes, placing some dishes on the coffee table. "Gerard has never liked to be left out."  


"It's not that! I just...I think in this case you should have consulted me or something," I objected.  


"Well," Grace began. "I called your house one day while you were out to talk to Frankie. He was sleeping, so Ray took the chance to fill me in on everything about the surprise birthday party. He asked me if there was any possibility that I could be here for it, that Frankie missed me. I said I'd love to and I would try, though my boss was a hard nut to crack . Then some days ago, something happened -which I figured out later talking to Donna- and the director was displaced. The thing is...my work mates knew how much I wanted to see Frank again and insisted that I traveled. They talked to the new director and got me three days. They even bought my plane tickets!"  


"Oh wow, it sounds like you're really loved in that place! But how did you all arrange this? When...?" I kept asking, secretly admitting that I was jealous. How didn't I think of that first?  


"Ray had given me his number, so I called him. Then Donna contacted me and said I could stay here," she explained.  


"But...where were you all this time today until you arrived and why didn't you tell me about all this? Seriously! I'd have loved to know... I could have helped some way! Ray, this was too important to not tell me, man! Mom...you! Shouldn't you have asked for my opinion on keeping this a secret, also? I..."  


"Gerard!" my mother cut me off. Even though she didn't scream because of Frankie, she added the necessary stress to her words to get the same effect. "Shut up already, you're gonna give the poor lady a headache, jeez! We decided it like this, period. If we had told you, there was the risk of you giving up to Frank's insistence and telling him everything. And about whether we did the right thing...it's too late for that. So please, instead of ranting why don't you introduce everybody to Grace? You're being plain rude, son."  


"I...sorry," I said embarrassed, realising that my mother was right. "Grace, this is Jack Sparrow...I mean...Anthony, Frankie's dad."  


"I'm glad to finally meet you, ma'am! And even more glad that you were part of my son's life. I think it's mostly because of you that he's such a sweet, caring boy," he let her know, getting up and kissing her cheek. It must have been an intense, important moment for him, to meet the woman who had been able to do what he couldn't: see Frankie grow up, help him, teach him things, give him love.  


"Please, call me Grace! I must confess that I had my doubts when I knew Gerard had found you, though I gradually lost them after hearing Frankie talk about you. Now that I met you -even in your pirate version- I can tell you're a good person and father, I see it in your eyes. And God, you two look so alike!"  


"I know! Thanks..." Tony replied, at a loss for words. He was suddenly entranced by the view of his son peacefully playing with the woman's copper hair which he had gotten free from the bun.  


As I introduced my friends and family to Grace, Frankie lifted his face and observed it all. He didn't speak but he was smiling, even giggling at some jokes we made.  


"Hey, there!" Grace greeted him. "Feeling better?"  


"Y-yeah, fine. S-saw the c-costumes? All...all s-so good!" He pointed at us all, much more spirited now.  


"Yeah, I love them! No offense though, but I must say that yours is the best one."  


"D-donna made it! Sh-she...she's my m-mom now but..." he doubted. "...y-you're also like my m-mom. Uh...I k-kinda have two d-dads...can I h-have two moms, t-too?"  


My mother kissed his head. "I have no problem with that, sweety! What's more, Grace's been your mom first."  


"I think you totally deserve to have two moms," Grace agreed, kissing the other side. I guessed their gesture wasn't premeditated, but I found it specially significant that it was Frank's _head_ that was receiving the love from his two mothers of the heart, while his biological one had only caused it harm.  


"C-cool!"  


"Now let me see you well." The woman examined him, gaining a questioning frown from the boy.  


"Wh-what...?"  


"Apart from the bird costume -which is beautiful- I think you got prettier since the last time I saw you. Yes, yes you did! The glasses look really good on you and your hair's so long!"  


"L-like it?" Frankie inquired.  


"Of course I do, it's all shiny and soft! But...there's something else...you look different..." The nurse watched him carefully. 

Frankie flushed and his face fell. "Oh I....I kn-know! 'C-cause...'cause I'm f-fat now, right?"  


"What? No, baby! First...you're _not_ fat. I see a healthy and _very_ handsome boy. _This_ is fat!" She pointed to herself, laughing.  


"N-no, you're not f-fat!"  


"No? Well, then none of us is. Anyway, I didn't mean that when I said you looked different...let me check something." She took off Frank's glasses.  


"N-no!" He stopped her hand. "I...I h-have to use th-them all the t-time! Th-the eye-doctor s-said!"  


"I know, it'll be just a couple of seconds." Grace grabbed Frankie's face and stared deeply into his eyes, a huge grin forming on her lips as she nodded. "Yes, definitely. You're fully, hopelessly in love, that's what is different in you, my child!"  


Frank's eyebrows elevated in shock. "Y-you see th-that in...in m-my eyes?"   


"Well, I already knew of course, and it's also noticeable in your voice...but your eyes perfectly show just _how much_ in love you are. They're the biggest proof."  


"W-wow!"  


"Are you a gypsy or something like that?" Bob blurted out. I didn't know much about Grace's life, so I feared she might take it wrong. She did have some kind of gypsy vibe in her.  


"No, but my grandmother was!" She chuckled. "This has nothing to do with it, anyhow. It's just that sixth sense all women have."  


"Oh, right..." Bob trailed off.  


"You need some lessons about women, Bobby," Alicia stated.  


"Al, leave him alone, don't you have enough with torturing me?" my brother scolded her.  


"I don't _torture_ you, silly, I put you in your place. You need...discipline, how many times do I have to explain it?"  


"Would you please not fight in front of our guest?" my mother solicited.  


"Tell Alicia, she started."  


"Mikey...stop it," mom pushed.  


"Ok, ok! Women...there are no lessons one could take to understand them, _no one_ can so who'd be the teacher? A woman? That would not work, I tell you."  


"M-mikey's a little g-grumpy but...but he can be n-nice too," Frank informed Grace. "H-he thinks I'm an-annoying, though."  


"You sometimes are..." she let out, quickly winking at me. 

Frankie gasped and his expression changed to one of deception. "N-no I'm not! Y-you don't l-love me an-anymore, Grace? Y-you must h-have other kids th-that...that you l-love more, now!" he whined getting off her lap.  


"Frankie...I was joking, baby!" Grace held him by an arm and pulled him to her. "Of course I take care of many kids there and I love them all. However, no one will _ever_ be as important to me as you. You're my favorite, forever...but that's our secret."  


"P-promise?" Frankie raised his pinkie, Grace imitating him so they could chain their fingers.  


"I promise," she swore, and the boy's eyes illuminated.

Frank and Grace appeared to have a very personal connection, a bond built on need, compassion and gratitude. One had been silently imploring protection, the other had offered selfless love. What they had could have been enviable for Anthony, who was little by little strengthening his ties with Frankie; blood ties that could be seen and felt but still needed some consolidation. In these cases presence was stronger than blood. Anthony wasn't to blame for the absence, and Frankie knew that; yet they still had years to retrieve. However, a look at Iero's face was enough to note that his feelings towards Frank and Grace's relationship were nowhere near envious. He was grateful, as I was, that Frankie had found such a wonderful person along the way.

"G-grace! I...I h-have lots of things to t-tell you!" Frankie exclaimed all of a sudden.  


She caressed his cheek. "Oh, but we always speak on the phone and you tell me everything, I think you should go enjoy your birthday party...I don't wanna steal you from the others!"   


"B-but...but I d-didn't tell you 'bout the p-police thing!"  


"I'm staying for two more days, so I can go to your house tomorrow and we'll talk, ok? Now I'd rather dance and eat something!"  


"Uh...k-kay!" Frank accepted happily. He ran to the stereo, picked a CD after staring at the many piled up on the table and pressed 'play'. An old rock and roll song began to sound, and he turned up the volume only very slightly. Once satisfied he walked to Grace, dragging her to the center of the living room. "L-let's dance!"  


"It'll be a pleasure, mister Iero!" She bowed, proudly pronouncing the last name; the same she'd been banned from mentioning in the past by someone who expected Frankie to forget who he was. Now she felt free, no longer an accomplice of something she hadn't even had knowledge of.  


We all danced; whether we were vampires, pirates, birds, dogs, Indians, firemen or nurses. We all danced not minding how well or bad we did. This time it didn't matter, not even _I_ could refuse and I honestly didn't care if I looked ridiculous. It was Halloween, we were all disguised and more importantly, it was Frank's birthday. We danced by ourselves, we danced in pairs and we danced all together absolutely uninhibited. Only my brother was averse, but his girlfriend made sure that he joined us, bringing to his attention that he was dressed as a yellow bird, which meant it couldn't get any more embarrassing than that. I didn't hear one more complain coming from him after that, and I could swear he was having great fun.  


Mikey was cracking up and chanting when we grabbed each other's hands and formed a circle, Frankie in the middle being the hyperactive star. He said the gnomes and the little people were dancing with him, so we should be careful not to step on them. I couldn't tell if he was really seeing his imaginary friends or he just wanted to pretend that they were there for his birthday. I didn't ask him, we all played along. It wouldn't hurt to do so for one night. It'd already upset him enough when I told him to leave Puppy at home because he may get scared or steal the food.  


Everything went peachy until my brother -having gotten rid of all shame at this point- remembered my earlier joke about Ray and Bob and went for my mom's Village People cassette. He gave the volume control a swift turn as he began to jump foolishly towards his victims. Ignoring Mikey, we all looked at Frankie at the same time, alarmed. 

Our worry was well-justified. Frank ran to a corner for shelter and started to scream, covering his ears. "T-TOO LOUD! T-TOO LOUD PLEASE I D-DON'T LIKE IT P-PLEASE T-TURN IT OFF! I...IT S-SCARES ME I D-DON'T LIKE IT P-PLEASE..." he cried. 

That's when Mikey reacted, turning the music off and hurrying to Frank before any of us could. "Oh shit, sorry Frankie I...I didn't realise. Hey, kiddo..." Mikey crouched in front of him, touching his arm. "Calm down, I already turned it off, please talk to me. Are you alright?"  


Frankie wasn't listening, didn't register us. He screamed no more words, only cried out frightened. His eyes were wide open and surveying it all, but he didn't appear to be there. I had never seen him lose himself this much over his fear of loud noises. We didn't know how to help him overcome that fear, nobody was certain of where it came from. We had theories, but Goldberg hadn't been able to find out the truth so far.

"I...I swear I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry Gee I..." Mikey eyed me, freaking out.  


"I know Mikey, it's ok." I patted his back. "Frankie...Frankie baby, everything's fine now, can you hear me?"  


"Frankie? Son, you're scaring us..." Anthony tried to hug him, but Frankie's body was stiff, glued to the wall and immovable. A terrified little bird. 

Grace didn't succeed either. The boy's mind had closed down, it was too far away. Something deeper, stronger, had been triggered this time, whatever the cause. Was it the song, the situation? Was this just meant to happen? All I knew is that I wanted him to stop screaming and notice us.  


" _I_ did this." Mikey made us apart. "It's my fault, let me try again."  


He was deeply scared and couldn't help crying while he took Frank's face in between his hands and forced it up. "Frankie...shhh, please look at me, look at Mikey..." He raised his voice so Frank would hear him over his own screams, still keeping it gentle and soothing. He continued to talk to the boy in that same tone, always in contact with him; running thin fingers though his hair or rubbing his arms. Mikey wasn't exactly comfortable doing this, but he cared for Frankie and felt guilty. 

At first he got the same null result as us, until Frankie gradually stopped screaming and focused on the face in front of him. "That's it...everything's fine, we're all here for your birthday party, remember? Bob and Ray were gonna dance..."  


"Y-yeah...dance..." Frankie babbled.  


"Yes, dance! Frankie...if you forgive me, I'll dance with them." I thought my ears were deceiving me when I heard Mikey say that.  


"I...I f-forgive you..." Frank smiled shakily. "G-go play that s-song but...but low, k-kay?"  


"Kay!" Mikey shook his hand, satisfied and relieved.  


"Let's sit at a better place so we can watch them." Tony picked up his son and they both sat on the couch, ready for the show.

To see Ray, Bob and Mikey dance to Y.M.C.A. was one of the funniest things I'd witnessed in my life. Red as a tomato, Ray performed all the obligatory moves way better than the other two, proving that it wasn't his first time. Bob -who hadn't been born to dance- was too amused to even care that he was making a fool of himself. Mikey, preoccupied with helping Frankie feel better, did his best and laughed his clumsiness off. After the song was over and we all applauded them, Frankie demanded a repetition so he could join them.  


"Are you sure you feel fine to dance, babe?" I questioned. He didn't look so flush and short of breath as before, but was still visibly shaky.  


"Y-yep, great!"  


"Well, go then!" Anthony encouraged him. "Birthdays are made to have fun!"  


"Show us what you can do!" Grace cheered. 

Ray and Mikey weren't exactly thrilled with the second round petition. Alicia and Bob had to push them back to the 'stage' while none other than Victor rewound the cassette and replayed the song.  


Frankie didn't have the needed coordination to follow moves, form letters with his arms in the correct direction, or even copy the others in time. Anyway, he didn't let that dishearten him. Since he only wanted to have fun, he did what he could and laughed all the time. We ended up having a third round that we all took part of.

By the end of the party I was sitting on the floor chatting with Anthony and the band, the couch being occupied by a sleeping Frankie. He was sprawled on his back, his blue costume in disarray and a hand over his larger-than-ever stomach. He had eaten far more than we usually permitted him, which was only fair taking the special date into consideration. Mikey and Alicia were also passed out on the smaller couch, her thin frame lost in my brother's broad feathery attire. Ray and Bob had excused themselves a little earlier, saying they preferred to go home before tiredness knocked them out too. My mother and Grace were in the kitchen washing the dishes.

"Oh Gerard, before I forget!" Anthony semi whispered. "You know what Frankie said about being too old for school?"  


"Yeah..."  


"Well, I've been looking up something about it, mostly over the Internet and I also asked some people. It seems it might be hard to find vacancies for those kind for schools at this time of the year," he elaborated on.  


"With 'those kind of schools' you mean..."  


"Yes, special schools. As much as we love him and are proud of him, we can't ignore the fact that he's _very_ behind, he has a third grade level as much...and that if we forget about maths. Of course, they wouldn't admit him to a regular school with 8-year old kids."  


"I guess not..." I concurred.  


"And...I don't think one of those schools for adults who couldn't study when they were kids would be a good environment for him or that they'd have enough patience. What's more, he's surrounded by enough adults already. It'd be good if he could make some friends. Friends more...similar to him."  


"Yeah, I think you're right," I agreed. It could be great for Frankie to have some specialized help to learn and be able to interact with others. "So there's nothing for now?"  


"I still have to keep searching, but at least regarding to public schools...it seems like it won't be easy. We also have to look for something close enough, and there are only a few. Private schools are not an option for us at the moment, I already checked. Fucking expensive!"  


"Fuck..."  


"Don't worry, at worst we'll have to wait until the next school year." Tony smiled. "But just in case and before I keep on searching, I'd like you to talk to Frankie and ask him if he'd _really_ like to go to school. Try to find out what's his idea about schools. Maybe he dreamed of going to a regular one, you know? So...tell him what kind of school he'd be attending, I wanna be sure that he'd be ok with that."  


"Don't you wanna ask him yourself?"  


"I think it'll be better if you do, he trusts you more when it comes to going somewhere else." He shrugged. 

I found myself suddenly laughing when I thought of how weird it was to be discussing such important matters with a pirate while dressed as a vampire myself. And I still thought Anthony looked hot, which made it worse.  


"What's so funny?" he inquired, staring at me like I had lost my mind.  


"Us?" I simply replied. 

He brought a hand up to his wig and exploded in laughter. "Oh my God, you're right! I'd forgotten that I was dressed like this for a moment!"  


Travis chuckled from the other side of the room. "You two are odd, you know that?"   


"Must be the gay factor," Jake added. "Paul's as odd as them."  


"Straight guys need to loosen up, that's the problem," the addressed manifested.  


"Wise words, matey, wise words!" Tony raised his cup like a drunk man, only that it contained Coca Cola. 

All the same our conversation turned into a drunken one, which reminded me that I hadn't felt the urge to drink alcohol at all lately. Was I over it at last?  


"Gerard, why don't you boys go home? You have work tomorrow and that old couch's not comfortable for Frankie to sleep on," my mother spoke from the kitchen's door.  


"Isn't he gonna want to stay here with Grace?" I doubted. Even if I would miss him deadly, I was prepared to let him stay.  


"I say you go home and have a good sleep," Grace intervened. "Tell Frankie I'll be there after lunch."  


"You sure?"  


"Yes, Gerard." Mom puffed. "If Frankie stayed someone would have to sleep on the couch, and as I said...it's not a recommendable experience."  


"Ok, then! See you tomorrow, Grace. And again, it was awesome to meet you!"  


"Ditto! You're an incredible boy, Gerard, and Frankie a lucky one." She gave me a hug.  


"I'd say it's the other way round," I corrected her before marching behind Tony, who had Frankie in his arms all wrapped up in a blanket.  


Once he had laid him down on the backseat of my car, I went to say goodnight to the whole pirate crew that was waiting for me in the porch. Every one without exception gave me a hug and told me it had been a wonderful night.  


"May the good wind blow your sails!" I heard Greg call as I got into the car. They were all nuts, one of the reasons that made it easier to love them. You never got bored if they were around. Even Victor could be funny when he left the tough guy pose aside.

******

I sat Frankie on the edge of the bed to free him from his bird costume and change him into his pajamas, but he kept falling backwards or to the sides like a rag doll. He was absolutely exhausted after a night of fun, surprises and frights.  


"G-grace?" he rasped groggily, looking around him in evident confusion. Puppy barked and tilted his head, finding his owner's poor state funny.  


"We're home, Frankie, you were asleep when we left. Grace stayed at mom's, she said she'll come visit us tomorrow."  


"Ahh, k-kay," he mumbled, his eyes closing. "An-and the g-gnomes and the little p-people? B-bringed them here, G-gee?"  


"Honey...they're not real, remember?" Although it was maybe not the best moment to argue, I was supposed to remind him of that. "But here's Puppy!"  


"Oh...t-true...yeah..." Frankie picked up the dog and cradled him dearly. He loved the little pet and took very good care of him, being certainly more responsible for him than I was.  


"You really saw them there, babe?" Frank had been hallucinating less those last two months. He sometimes heard the voice in his head if he was too tired or nervous, or saw something once in a while; but he didn't interact as much as he used to and it never lasted. This night, on the contrary, he had incorporated his imaginary friends at the party, dancing and talking to them. Back then I couldn't conclude if he was seeing them for real or just playing around because he missed them. He didn't seem to be playing now.

Frankie appeared to awake after hearing my question. He casted a glance over the whole room, stopping at a spot on the floor beside me. He bit his thumb nervously, his eyes pacing between whatever he was seeing and me. "I....y-yeah, saw th-them. Th-they were th-there 'cause...it was m-my birthday. In-invited them," he hesitantly confessed.  


"Was it only tonight that you saw them so well, or it's been happening often?" I decided to go on since we were on the subject. Again, Frank vacillated. "You can tell me the truth, it's ok."  


"Of-often." He neared his mouth to my ear, like he didn't want them to hear. "Th-they told me not to t-tell you 'cause...'c-cause then you'd w-worry and I'd have to t-take more p-pills. I...I d-don't want more p-pills, Gee. I'm f-fine. M-my friends don't b-bother me. N-nope...almost n-never, really! Th-they're good!"  


"Oh no, love! I just wanted to know, I've told you that I don't mind you talking to them! Frankie...you don't need to hide _anything_ from me. And you won't have to take any more pills than you do now as long as you feel okay. Just promise that you'll let me know if your head gets too messy or that voice annoys you too much."  


"K-kay..." he nodded, releasing Puppy and lying on his belly to peep down at his 'mini-buddies'. "T-told you Gee d-didn't mind, s-sillies!"

The short conversation had made Frankie wide awake again. It took at least one hour of cuddling and recalling some memorable moments of the party to get him to sleep. He was really excited, euphoric, he couldn't believe we had organized a party _just for him_. Grace's visit had been the final perfect touch to turn the event into the best birthday of his life.  


I contemplated the content smile that persisted on Frankie's rosy lips, for a while refusing to let go of the pacifying image. It was the clock on the nightstand what gave me the bad news, through those teasing numbers reading 3:30 am. I didn't have much time left until that machine from hell went off, so I obliged my mind to go blank and let sleepiness take over me.  


Something pulled me out of my welcomed unconsciousness. I wasn't in all my senses to know the cause, but I did notice that it was still night, which meant I hadn't slept much. The bed was agitating and sheets and blankets had been drawn away from me. Frankie was screaming and crying while Puppy scratched at the closed door, scared. 

I turned on the light and saw that Frankie was asleep, evidently having a nightmare, anguish and fear on his face. "N-no no please...p-please turn it off it's t-too loud...T-TOO LOUD!" 

At first it sounded like he was dreaming of what had happened earlier, but then he said something more that puzzled me. "H-he's little, s-see? Th-the...the b-baby's scared! S-STOP IT, HE'S C-CRYING! T-TOO MANY P-PEOPLE TOO T-TALL TOO LOUD AND...AND THE B-BABY!"  


"Frankie...Frankie please wake up, it's just a dream!" I shook him gently. He kept sobbing and twisting. "FRANKIE WAKE UP!" I screamed, I couldn't stand to see him suffer like that. 

He opened his glassy eyes, sat up, and stared at me panting. "H-HELP HIM, G-GERARD, PLEASE!" 


	67. Chapter 67

_So shut your eyes,_   
_kiss me goodbye,_   
_and sleep..._   
_Just sleep..._   
_The hardest part's the awful things that I've seen._

"Sweety calm down, you had a nightmare," I hushed Frankie while rocking him slowly.  


"B-but...but the b-baby's scared and...and...p-please..." he weeped. His eyes still looked weird, unfocused, as if he wasn't completely awake. 

I grabbed his face and whispered in his ear. "Frankie, there's _no_ baby, it was just a bad dream...look at me."  


"Y-YES THERE IS!"  


"No, only you and me...and Puppy. He got scared 'cause you were crying loudly, see?" I pointed at our small dog that was curled up against the door, ears folded back and eyes huge with fear. 

Frankie seemed to react then, hurrying off the bed and approaching the pet. Puppy drew back, hesitant.  


"P-puppy...I won't h-hurt you, l-lemme pick y-you up? S-sorry I scared you. C-come, baby..." he called him softly, sniffing. 

Puppy perceived his owner's anguish. His fear subsided and that caring, silently understanding dog nature emerged. He stood on his rear paws, waiting for Frank to lift him.  


"Bring him here." I patted the bed. 

Frankie got in and pulled the covers up to his waist.  He stroke Puppy's black fur as he spoke to him. "Ev-everything's fine, I'm s-sorry."  

It was admirable and touching to see him taking care of his dog, to notice how good he was at it even when he was so dependent himself. Maybe that was Frank's secret: he empathized with this little stray dog, they had both been abandoned puppies. He knew how it felt, what the ones like them needed. Many times I'd catch Frankie talking to Puppy in the same way I talked to him when I wanted to comfort him, same words and tone. It appeared to work on the four-legged kid, too.  


Suddenly, as he kept running his hand absently along the dog's back, Frankie began to cry again. Unstoppable tears falling without a sound while the boy took a walk inside his mind.  


"Frankie...what's wrong?" I asked.  


"N-nothing..."  


"It doesn't look like nothing to me, you're crying." When my hand made contact with his hair he emitted a painful sob. I continued nevertheless, untangling some knots with my fingers.  


"D-dunno why I'm c-crying, Gee. F-feel like c-crying...something h-here." He touched his chest.  


"Is it because of the dream you had?"  


"M-maybe..."  


"Want to tell me what it was about? It sometimes helps..." I suggested, involuntarily watching the clock sideways. It was more than 5 am, but I'd rather go to work without having slept than leave Frankie like this. I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing he wasn't fine, anyway.  


"D-dunno..."  


"Don't you remember it?" It happened sometimes that you'd forget a nightmare and still keep the dreadful feeling.  


"Y-yes," he nodded and screwed his eyes shut, a pearly trail of accumulated tears surfacing. That dream couldn't have been a random one, Frankie wouldn't be in this state just because of any creepy dream. He didn't look scared but distressed, and the mention of loud music and many people had sounded alarmingly familiar.  


"You mentioned a baby..." I helped him. 

Another nod and deep thinking, his mouth opening and closing several times before he found his voice. "It...it w-wasn't a baby-baby. H-he was...he w-was a very l-little kid, like K-kevin," he mentioned a neighbor's 3-year old child. "B-but wasn't K-kevin 'cause Kevin has y-yellow hair. Th-this little kid h-had dark b-brown. Y-yeah."  


"Where was he?" I guided him so he'd find it easier to organize his memories.  


"I...I d-dunno...a house. Th-the baby was on a b-bed first and there was n-noise, much. H-he screamed f-for his mom. D-didn't say 'mom', j-just screamed but I kn-know he wanted his m-mom. Sh-she didn't come and...and th-the little kid fell f-from the bed..." Frank related, hiccuping. He stopped and looked at me, either doubting if he should go on or trying to remember how. The dream was sounding more and more like recollections to me. Was he that baby? Was that in the shelter and he missed his mom or...?  


"What happened after the baby fell? Was he hurt?" I inquired. 

Frankie shook his head. "N-nope, fell on h-his ass and...and h-had those things b-babies use? F-for pee and p-poo?" He searched for the word in his head, and at that moment a saw a little kid in front of me, perhaps the one from his dream.  


"Diapers?" I threw.  


"Y-yes, that! D-didn't hurt when he f-fell and...and he c-crawled out of the r-room. C-couldn't walk, he t-tried but f-fell again so he c-crawled." He swayed his body nervously, Puppy completely asleep on his lap.  


"What happened then?" I kept asking, now worried besides interested.  


"Th-there was so much n-noise. M-music and voices and l-laughs and screams. Th-the baby didn't l-like it, s-scared him but...b-but he wanted his m-mom so he went th-there..." He extended a finger to point as if he was seeing it all.  


"There...where?"  


"It...it w-was dark and smelled w-weird and th-there were many p-people dancing and t-talking and drinking and...and th-they were too t-tall for the b-baby. C-couldn't see the f-faces and he was m-making noises and l-looking for his mom b-but no one paid at-attention to him. Th-then he saw the sh-shoes." He looked up at me for the first time since he had started talking.  


"His mom's shoes?"  


"Y-yes. He t-tugged at her p-pants and she p-pushed him a-away and told him to g-go to sleep. H-he couldn't! T-too much noise and he w-was scared and all w-wet with pee!" Frankie raised his voice, desperate. "Th-then a man said s-something and the mom s-said something but I didn't know wh-what and they l-laughed and the m-man got on his kn-knees and talked to the k-kid and then laughed too l-loud. Th-the baby s-screamed 'cause he wanted the m-music to stop and he w-wanted the light on but...b-but he didn't kn-know how to s-speak and no one un-understood."  


"Oh, God..." I muttered, now having no doubt that the dream was, indeed, memories from Frank's past, when he still lived with his mother. It seemed that bitch used to have drunken parties with the child there, as one of our theories had been. 

Frankie kept on talking in between sobs and I couldn't tell whether he knew who the little kid in his dream was. "Th-the baby screamed and s-screamed and then the m-mom hit his h-head and it hurt! Sh-she told him to sh-shut up but he c-cried, a l-lot and everybody l-laughed."  


"That's when I woke you up?" I wrapped him in my arms, careful not to bother Puppy who was snoring peacefully.  


"N-no, she...she g-gave the baby a...a paci, p-put it in his m-mouth all like...r-rude! It...it t-tasted bad so he s-spit-ted it and they all l-laughed again and the m-music was m-more louder and...and then d-dunno anymore." Fighting to keep his sobs low, he opted for sinking his face into my shirt. 

Puppy raised his head befuddled and reached up to lick Frank's cheek.  


I couldn't bring myself to tell my already traumatized boyfriend that the child was him. If he hadn't figured it out, I wouldn't be the one to say it. He was maybe better off thinking it was just a dream.  


I kissed his forehead. "It's ok, Frankie...I'm sure someone helped the baby." I hoped it was true, hoped someone had rescued Frankie from the chaos all those times -supposing it hadn't occurred just once- and safely guarded him in his room.  


"N-no 'cause...'cause th-they were all m-mean! Th-they laughed! P-poor kid was so l-little!"  


"I know but...there are good people everywhere, someone _had_ to help him, believe me," I insisted.  


"Y-you think?"  


"Yes, I can imagine a nice girl taking the baby to his room, changing his diaper, and tucking him in," I created a good ending for his dream.  


"And...and th-they lower-ed the music?" Frank questioned. A small child interacting with a bedtime story.  


"Of course, that girl reprimanded everybody and told them to put the volume down 'cause the baby needed to sleep."  


"And th-the mom w-went to give him a g-goodnight kiss?" He smiled hopefully. 

Something just didn't let me lie and turn his mother into a good character. That could have never happened; not in that situation and probably in any. "No, because...the baby fell asleep right away," I eluded. "You should do the same, it's very very late."  


Frank pouted. "Wh-what if...if I h-have ugly dreams ag-again?"   


"You won't, now you know it all ended well. You should forget that nightmare and think about your birthday party. The pirates, the van-ship...Ray, Bob and Mikey dancing!"  


"Y-yeah, that's f-funny, I'm gonna d-dream of that," he expressed, determined to control his subconscious. It _was_ feasible and Frank was undeniably stubborn, so he had high chances to achieve it. 

Just in case, I'd concentrate on the same images; holding him as close as humanly possible, our heads together in hopes of a happy result to counteract so much sadness.  


By the time I fell asleep, I already had to get up. Frankie was exhausted. He took his pills without bothering to open his eyes and then his head collided back with the pillow. I still couldn't believe everything he'd been through during his short life. Disinterest, pain, rejection, mistreatment, abandonment, discrimination. Yet he wasn't resentful, bitter or distrustful. He never gave up on searching for love and acceptance. He believed in people, saw the bright side of everything. He was an example.

When Anthony arrived, I told him to let his son sleep until lunch, briefly explaining our restless night. His face changed and it showed rage. His fists tightened and his jaw clenched. For a while he cursed in between his teeth, next he cried helplessly repeating 'my poor baby' over and over.  


"I can't understand Linda..." Anthony finally externalized his thoughts. "There's _no_ excuse for her behavior. See...for a long time I was as fucked up as she was, yet I'd have never neglected Frankie or treated him like she did. Not even in my worst moment, I know I wouldn't have. That's just..."  


I hugged him. "I know, Tony. Drugs and alcohol can't justify all she did, I...I don't even know what to say either."   


"Sometimes...I'd kill her," he manifested in a whisper.  


"Don't even _think_ of it, she's not worth it," I said firmly.

******  


When I returned home that afternoon, Grace was already there. I was a little bummed to see Frankie asleep again. I hadn't been able to talk to him so far and I missed it. I observed him snuggled in Grace's lap and felt like gathering him in my own arms. I wanted to kiss him, sense his warmth against my skin, look into those adorable eyes. I knew, however, that he needed his rest, so my urges would have to wait.  


I had greeted the nurse and we'd been doing small talk for some minutes when I realised Anthony wasn't anywhere in sight. "Where's Tony? At first I thought he was in the bathroom or something..."  


"Oh, I forgot! He left a couple of hours ago, said I should spend some time alone with Frankie," she informed me. "It makes me _infinitely_ happy to know Anthony's the boy's dad, we talked a lot and he's a great man. He loves Frank so much that his eyes fill up with tears every time he speaks about him."  


"Yeah, I think he still can't fully believe that Frankie's alive, it must feel like a dream to him," I assented. "You should have seen his face when Frankie was legally 'brought back to life'!"  


"What that woman did is...I don't even have words for that," she hissed, kissing Frankie's head. "Talking about legal stuff, do you have any news about all that?"  


"The police contacted the procurator...who was just another victim of Linda's frauds. The only person under arrest up to date is...well, your ex boss. Although they might release him rather soon if proved that he was menaced and forced to declare Frank dead."  


"Maybe I should testify for him, he's really not a bad man. And..." Grace continued in a whispered tone. "...I didn't know that he'd helped fake Frank's death, but I did hear that guy from the government threaten him to close down the institution years ago, when he told us to delete Frank's last name from all the records."  


"Grace _please_ , don't do anything for the moment, it's dangerous. At least wait until they catch ...the culprits," I begged her. "Promise me, Frankie needs you."  


"You're right, Frank's far more important than my ex-boss. I promise I'll stay put. But, the police...don't they have _any_ clue about where those two are?"  


"No, all the phones they've used are now out of service. Their last known address -according to the procurator- was a hotel, and Linda's name is not registered anywhere. There's no property under her name other than the one her mother left her, and of course she's not there."  


"Damn! She must have changed her name."  


"Yes, either that or her man puts everything under _his_ , which we don't know. The police are still trying to find that out." I chuckled. "I see it a little impossible, honestly."  


"Motherfuckers!" Grace exclaimed, becoming carried away by indignation. 

Frankie jumped and opened his eyes. "Uh? Wh-what happened? Wh-who's a m-mother-fucker?" He squinted and winked until he regained focus, a smile rapidly forming on his lips. "G-gee!  


"Hello, baby!" I extended my arms and he flew towards me, sending me down on my back.  


"L-love you and m-missed you so f-fucking much!"  


"Hey, Frankie? Remember I'm here!" Grace joked.  


"On-only gonna kiss h-him, no o-other boyfriend th-thing 'til you l-leave, promise!" Frankie did as he said, letting me feel all I had been yearning for. Lips, hands around my neck, warmth. Eyes staring right into my soul when he withdrew.  


"Are you asking me to leave, then?" The nurse seemed to be used to teasing Frank, healthily mocking him about every-day situations like we all did with our family.  


"N-no! P-please stay for d-dinner? G-gee and I will be g-good!"  


"I know you will, but I can't invite myself..." the nurse pointed out, her clear irises sparkling. She had no make-up on this time; and her wavy, shoulder-length hair was only fastened back with a blue elastic band. Her features were delicate, the lines on her face only adding extra guilelessness and friendliness. She was one of those people who shined.  


"You wouldn't be inviting yourself, Frankie did. This is his house as much as mine," I corrected her. "And it'll be an honor for me too."  


"Y-yes!" Frankie stood and hopped on the couch, making us both bounce. "It...it's my h-house too and you'll s-stay 'cause...'cause y-you're one of m-my two moms and I s-said so!"  


"I guess I can't decline such an invitation!" Grace laughed, wiping a tear away. There were only two moms for Frankie, and they were called Grace and Donna.  


Frank went for the crayons Grace had bought him and some of the paper sheets Sarah always sent him through me. He was going to take his usual spot on the floor, in front of the coffee table, when he looked at me pleadingly. I knew what he wanted. Sometimes he had his needy, extra cuddly days, specially if something had recently upset him. With a smile I obeyed his wordless petition, sitting down on the cold tiles Indian style so he could use me as his couch. Once my arms closed around him he was satisfied. He turned to peck at my lips and then began to draw. My legs would surely be numb in a while and sore later, but how could I refuse?  


"It seems someone's a little spoiled, uh?" Grace commented, grinning.  


"Just pampered much..." I leaned my chin on Frank's shoulder. He shuddered and giggled.  


"Oh, I think it's absolutely fine! He needs it and has never had enough, I've always tried but it's hard when you have many more kids to watch."  


Grace and I conversed while Frankie translated all the mental images the party had left him onto the paper. He loved these kind of reminders as much as he adored photographs. The drawings showed his perspective, his feelings at the moment better than any picture. He didn't need any virtuosity or special technique. His drawings were naive and cheerful like his view of the world, and you could easily recognize everything and everyone in them. The same he occasionally added notes and names, perhaps fearing that he might forget who was who in the future.  


"G-gee...how you wr-write 'Victor'? W-wanna do it r-right," Frank asked. 

He had drawn the pianist's pink shirt so well that I had to chuckle. "Oh my, that's so awesome! And it's v..."  


"Th-this v?" He traced it in the air with a finger.  


"Yep, that one. Then i-c-t-o-r," I listed slowly, giving him time to write it down.  


"K-kay, thanks!" He neared his face to the table, concentrating in making the letters neat and cursing when his hand betrayed him. "F-fuck!"  


"It looks very good, don't worry. I can read it just fine," Grace chimed in. "You're writing much better and smaller, actually, seems you've been practicing a lot."  


"Y-yeah but...b-but still don't kn-know all the r-right letters or h-how to write in other w-ways and...my h-hand fucks up."  


"You'll learn with time, there's no rush, kiddo." She ruffled his hair.  


The conversation I'd had with Anthony the night before came back to me, and I considered this a wise opportunity to bring up the subject. "Frankie...remember when you said you were too old to go to school and your dad said you weren't?"  


"Y-yeah..." he answered uninterested, scribbling some details into his costume.  


"I need you to pay attention, it's important," I requested gently, squeezing him a little.  


"G-gee, don't move m-me, I'm d-drawing!" He laughed. "I...I _am_ p-paying attention."  


"Ok." I decided to believe him. "As Tony told you...you're _not_ too old for school, but I want to know what you think. Would you really like to go?"  


"T-to school?"  


"Yes..."  


"Uh...I...d-dunno...I'd l-like to but...but maybe I w-wouldn't..." he meditated. I peeked at Grace, who wasn't any less confused than I was.  


"What you mean, Frankie?" I questioned. The look he gave me said 'you know'. I didn't. "Explain it, whatever it is."  


"I...I s-saw schools in m-movies and Mel s-says it's cool...so I'd l-like to go. W-wanna have note-books and all th-that school stuff and m-make friends and l-learn..." He continued to work on his drawing, now coloring with a blue crayon. "...but d-dunno if I can l-learn. It...it's too h-hard and maybe t-teachers won't want me th-there 'cause...I'm like...s-slow and don't un-understand much."  


"Of course you can learn, Frankie!" Grace affirmed. "Forget about what that imbecile at the institution told you."  


"She's right, babe, he was just an idiot; you've learned _many_ things since I met you. Your writing and reading got better, you corrected some words you'd say wrong...you've even learned how to make cookies and operate the washing machine!" I enumerated. His improvements may be modest and he still forgot things once in a while; but the changes were considerable for only half a year and having in mind all the shit we had been through.  


"Al-also learned how to c-clean windows and...uh...u-use the stereo. Yep. And G-greg's teaching me d-drums."  


"See? I think you'd do great at school, I have a smart boyfriend." I pulled him back into me and kissed him, ignoring his protests about making him ruin his art. "And you're fucking good at drawing!"  


"N-no I'm not s-smart and...and wh-what if the k-kids make fun of m-me or...the t-teachers don't like m-me 'cause I'm s-special and tell me to l-leave?" He released his fear and frustration through the black crayon he was holding, pressing it against the paper with such force that it broke in two. "F-fuck!"  


"None of that would happen at the school you'd be going to," I revealed. 

Frank dropped the pieces of crayon he was mourning and gave me his whole attention. "Wh-why?"  


"Well...since you've never been to school, the grade you'd probably have to be put in is for little kids, and they don't allow people your age there..."  


"B-but..." he interrupted me, worried. "...b-boys my age g-go to school too! Or, w-well...a l-little younger but ev-everybody says I look y-younger so maybe I c-can go with th-them?"  


"No, because..." I stopped and glanced at Grace, asking for help. Frankie didn't have much idea of how schools worked, he knew almost nothing about grades or levels. He presumably thought that he could just go with kids his age and learn the same as them. How to tell him that things weren't that easy without sounding cruel? 

Grace crouched in front of us and inhaled deeply. "The thing is like this: boys about your age go to _high school_. But...being as old as they are doesn't mean you can go there too. You can't because..."  


"Wh-why? 'C-cause they'll l-laugh? Th-there are lots of as-assholes there, r-right? S-saw that in many m-movies..."  


"Yeah, well, that's true," she replied sincerely. "Some teens can be very mean with the ones that are different. But that's not the reason why you can't go to high school."  


"Th-then why?" Frankie frowned, lost.  


"Those kids went to school for many years, since they were little. You can't be put directly into high school if you've never been to school at all, you need to study a lot before that."  


"Ah..." He looked disappointed.  


"If you'd been able to go to a _real_ school when you were younger, then you could maybe attend one with kids your age now. Sadly, we didn't have one at the institution and you couldn't leave the place to go."  


"And...and the t-teacher was an ass-hole and didn't w-want to teach me!"  


"He was."  


"If...if f I c-can't go to h-high school then wh-what?" Now that he knew it was complicated, Frank appeared to want it more than ever.  


"You'll need to start school almost from the beginning; but you can't, for example, go to the same grade as your friend Mel, since you're much older," Grace proceeded patiently.  


"Wh-why? I w-want to! Y-younger kids are n-nicer to me..."  


"I don't know why, Frankie, that's how things are. Parents don't like older kids studying with their children, so schools don't allow it."  


"Th-those parents s-suck and s-schools suck and...and th-then I can't g-go!" he cried. I saw him grab a crayon as if it was a weapon and I quickly hid the drawing behind my back.  


"Hey! The drawing's not to blame, don't go messing it up because of sucky people!" I immobilized his hands with my free one. "Easy, calm down. I told you that you _can_ go to school, didn't I?"  


"Y-yeah, but you l-lied!"  


"No I didn't, you'd go to a _special_ school..."  


Frank relaxed, curious. "Uh? Y-you mean...a s-school for special p-people?"   


"Exactly, you would probably be with people your age or older, all of them special in different ways. No one would make fun of you 'cause you'd all be the same. And they have nice teachers who have a lot of patience and won't get mad if you don't understand something."  


"Wh-what if there's an assho-lish teacher? W-we were all s-special where I lived and...and h-had an asshole the s-same!" he discussed, proving how well he could sometimes reason.  


"Now you have many people to defend you, we'd kick their asses."  


"K-kay..."  


"Would you like to go to a school like that, then? If you don't want to it's fine, you decide." I hugged him, rocking us both.  


"Y-yes I want to, s-sounds cool but...if th-there are as-assholish kids or t-teachers then you kick th-them or I won't go an-anymore, kay?"  


"Kay, if you don't like it you can change school, don't worry. We still have to find one anyway, your dad's looking."  


"K-kay." Frank smiled widely. He stole the drawing from me and returned to work on it. 

I guessed he was relieved to know he didn't have to start right away. It was a huge thing and the idea had evidently made him nervous. For minutes he worked in silence and I exchanged some more words with Grace.  


"G-gee..." Frankie called with a preoccupied voice.  


"Yes, love?"  


"I...I d-don't wanna be o-out of home m-much...g-gonna miss you and d-dad and Puppy..."  


"Shh..." I silenced him with a finger. "We'll make sure it's just for some hours in the morning, so you can be home the rest of the day."  


"Th-then it's f-fine! L-love you!" He rotated his body to face me, barely grazing my mouth before he turned to the third person in the room. "D-don't look, Grace...w-wanna kiss him l-lots...with t-tongue..."


	68. Chapter 68

_'Cause love's such an old fashioned word  
and love dares you to care  
for the people on the edge of the night  
and loves dares you to change  
our way of caring about ourselves._

Our after-dinner talk extended for so long, that by the time we remembered to take a look at the clock it was too late for Grace to return to my mom's. Having stipulated that she'd stay with us, we moved to the couch for a little more conversation.  


I was entranced by Grace's stories and anecdotes. She was such a good narrator that I felt like I could spend hours listening to her. The intonation she gave to her words, the way she appeared to be seeing it all again before her eyes; she conveyed it so well that it was easy to recreate the images in my head.  


I learned several things about Grace, things that made me admire her even more. The nurse was proud of her choices and didn't regret anything. She had dedicated her whole life to working with 'special' people; those who were often neglected by their own family, concealed by society and governments to pretend that they didn't exist. She'd taken care of adults and children, sometimes as a volunteer. She had given them love, treated them like human beings, made them feel normal.  


Grace had never gotten married. No man had accepted her way of life, her total dedication to people who, she believed, needed her more. She didn't care that she'd been forever single, same as she didn't mind not having her own kids. She had raised lots anyway, more than she could have ever dreamed of giving birth to. She remembered each name and kept them all in her heart. No one as deep as she kept Frank, though. 

Grace couldn't pinpoint what had made her so attached to Frankie; she had seen uncountable cases as sad as his -and even worse. However, none had moved her as much as he did. No other child had given her such a strong, sudden need to protect them. The sweet woman revealed how she would have loved to adopt him. If she'd been in a better position and Frank's situation hadn't proved to be so complicated, she would have chosen him to legally be her son.  


Nothing stopped Grace once she would start talking about Frankie and she certainly had millions of memories concerning him. Sad, happy, touching, funny or just particular. Others had to do with all the verbal encounters she'd had with some nurses -specially the male ones- every time they would want -or succeed- to shoot Frankie with his meds, sedatives, or both.

"It's something that I just can't tolerate," she expressed, enraged. "I approve stronger sedatives applied in that way only when there's no other choice, when all other methods to calm down the patient have been tried and they become dangerous to themselves and people around them. Same with the medication. There are lots of options to administer it without using force. But mainly, I _strongly_ disagree with forceful methods when the nervous episode or unwillingness to cooperate could have been easily avoided. Is it that complicated to make sure there are always chewable candy of all flavors in stock?"  


"Oh, you say 'cause of Frankie's preference for strawberry, right?" I asked.  


"Yes! Frankie's a rather docile patient, the kid has never refused to take his meds as long as you put them into something he likes! Many patients are the same way, you just need to know their preferences. So...is it _that_ hard? Most of the times I have to take care of the shopping myself because the ones in charge tend to forget the candies or they buy the first shit they find."  


"S-sometimes they ate th-the candies!" Frankie pointed out.  


"Really? You mean the nurses?" I inquired incredulous.  


"Yes," Grace assented. "I've seen them many times. Not only nurses, but also doctors. That's why I always try to be around when it's time for the medication, to watch over the kids and prevent problems. Even if I buy candies, I never know if there will be any left by the following day. Sometimes I hide them in my room, but some mornings I'm sent to the other side of the building to assist the girls. When that happens I get terribly worried, and it used to be worse when Frankie lived with us. A _very_ unfortunate coincidence made it that every time I wasn't there to supervise, they'd give him his pills in a lemon candy. Did they do it on purpose or what? They _knew_ he hated those and would go mad if they insisted!"  


"Couldn't they put the pills over a toast with marmalade when they didn't have strawberry candy?" I debated.  


"Th-they could, but were m-mean. Y-yeah, _very_." Frankie shifted his position and ended up lying over both mine and Grace's laps. It wouldn't be long until he fell asleep.  


"That's what I did if I was in time to stop them from taking other measures. Otherwise, they'd say the patients had to either accept the pills as presented or have them injected. God forbid they misspend one pill because of their own incompetence!" she commented with an exasperated voice. Those were the only moments when her usual serene features were altered: when she'd talk about injustice, abuse, disinclination of those who were supposed to help.  


"Th-they grabbed me by m-my arms and legs and it h-hurt and then...th-then gave me shots...as-assholes!" Frank looked up at us, pouting. 

Grace seemed to get lost in thoughts; pleasant, funny memories probably invading them this time, since she was chuckling.  


"Wh-why you l-laughing? N-not funny!" Frank slapped her arm.  


"Oh no, baby! I'm not laughing at what you said!"  


"Th-then why?"  


"I just...remembered the day you learned your favorite word," she explained. The more she spoke, the more she sounded like Frank's mother.  


"Wh-what fav-orite word?"  


"That's easy!" I laughed. "Asshole, what other?"  


"I..." Frankie gasped indignant. "N-not true!"  


"Oh, come on, you love to say that word, it's clearly your favorite." I tickled his belly. 

Frank squirmed and emitted stifled giggles. "S-stop! Stop!" he pleaded, attempting to catch my hands. He achieved it, but then Grace took over. "P-please, kay! It...it's m-my fave word f-for...for b-bitching!"  


"That's better! Good to hear you admit that you're a dirty mouthed midget!" Grace interrupted the torture and gave Frank a suctioning kiss on his cheek.  


"Ouch! I'm n-not a midget, m-meanie! I'm ..."  


"...just small, I know!" she completed his line. "But you do agree with the dirty mouthed part, then."  


He grinned. "J-just a little."   


"So...you remember when you learned that word, _small_ one?  


"N-nope! I...I th-think always knew it 'c-cause it's aw-awesome, yep!"  


"I don't think anyone is born knowing how to say 'asshole', Frankie," I opined.  


" _I_ d-did!"  


"No you didn't!" Grace contradicted him. "I remember that day you were specially clingy, you wouldn't let go of my hand, so when I had to go check on the older kids I took you with me."  


"H-how old I w-was?" Frankie's eyelids were turning heavy, yet he fought sleep. He didn't want to miss anything Grace said.  


"Uh...let me think...it was during your first year there, you were probably already 9."  


"K-kay...go on!"  


"You were afraid of those kids, so whenever we went there you'd hide your face against me the whole time. On this occasion we found them watching TV, and the movie showed two people fighting. Suddenly, one of them called the other 'asshole'. You raised your head, repeated the word and started laughing. Then while we were leaving the room, some kids made fun of you or something. You turned round and...oh my, I still remember...you were just _this_ tall." Her hand indicated the height one would imagine for a 5-year old. "You stood with your hands on your hips, screamed 'shuddap, assholes!' and walked away all proud."  


I roared with laughter. "Oh my God, I'd pay what I don't have to go back in time and witness that!"   


"Th-they were all m-moody assholes!" Frank joined me.  


"Those boys didn't exactly have a mental illness, they were there for other reasons, you know?" Grace hinted at me. "The poor things weren't the most friendly you could find... Anyway! Frank's first experience with the 'a' word didn't stop there..."  


"Oh, I definitely wanna know more but..." I glanced at the clock that read 12:06 am. It was a miracle that Frankie had endured it so late. "...last thing and then we better go to sleep!"

"Yep, I agree," she said before continuing. "At dinner, this buddy happened to not like the meal..."  


"Really? Now he doesn't say 'no' to _any_ meal!" I joked.  


"Wh-what?" Frank frowned.  


"I mean that you eat practically _everything_ lately."  


"D-don't call me f-fat, meanie!" he protested.  


"I didn't, grumpy. It's actually a good thing that you're not picky."  


"I think there was fish that night," Grace recalled.  


"Ahh! I never buy fish 'cause I don't like it either, but Frankie ate it once at my mom's..."  


"M-mom Donna makes n-not so eww fish...and I w-was very h-hungry." He yawned. I resisted the urge to utter my usual comeback, he could get in a very bad mood when sleepy. "G-grace...tell us m-more?"  


"The cook served the fish, and I feared something coming as soon as I saw Frankie's very visible scowl. First he just whined and told her: 'don't like, make me other food?'. Of course, the cook said that's all there was to eat. Frankie cried and insisted and when he got nothing, he threw the full plate -which was luckily plastic- at her and called her 'asshole'. The woman challenged him to repeat it. He did. He began to repeat it over and over and when I tried to shut him up he bit my hand. After a while the other kids decided to imitate him..." Again she became absentminded as she thought back and laughed. "We ended up with a choir of little boys chanting 'ass-hole! ass-hole!' and hitting the table with their fists. Our boss wasn't happy at all but...although I didn't tell Frankie back then 'cause it wasn't something to congratulate him for, that woman _deserved_ it. She _was_ an asshole and her cooking was awful. She resigned soon after that, anyway. Mister Iero here did a great job!"  


"Didn't Frankie get into trouble?" It shocked me to think of such a young kid being reduced and shot full of sedatives.  


"No, he managed to elude them all and ran to hide under his bed. I convinced them to let him calm down by himself," she said with a vaguely sad smile, caressing Frank's hair as he dozed off.  


"I think it's time to go to sleep. Grace...are you sure you don't wanna sleep in our bed with Frankie? It's not a problem, really!" I propounded.  


"I'm sure, sweety, I'll be fine on the couch. It feels more comfortable than my own bed, believe me!"  


"Ok, then. I'll go for some blankets and...I think my mom left some pajamas here." I lifted Frank's legs and got up. "Say goodnight to Grace and come sleep, babe."  


"K-kay..." he mumbled groggily. "C-come for me? D-don't wanna w-walk..."  


******   


In the morning, before Frankie got up, I cited the dream he'd had two nights ago. Grace told me he had nightmares very often when younger, and a few times she had heard him scream something about a baby. Every time she'd asked him about it, Frank said he didn't remember. She agreed with my theory and, even though she had also suspected it, the probable confirmation that the dream represented clearly affected her. It must be devastatingly hard for someone who had wished Frankie was her son to find out that his biological mother treated him pretty much like an unwanted dog.  


Nonetheless she put herself together and smiled warmly at Frank when the boy crossed the kitchen door. She indicated us to sit down and enjoy the breakfast she'd prepared for us. It wasn't a fancy one, since we didn't have many elements or groceries; it was the sentiment behind it that gave it that special touch. She had made sure to ask us the night before what we preferred to drink and eat. She had rummaged through my drawers and found the prettiest, more colorful tablecloth. Everything was in its place neatly arranged and the toasts -ready with marmalade and all- formed a flower over a rainbowed striped tray I didn't know I owned.  


Just like Grace, I pushed the sad thoughts away. We couldn't change the past after all.  


I hadn't finished my coffee when the phone rang. I jogged to the living room to get it, thinking it was probably Anthony. He had conceded to Grace the opportunity to take care of Frankie that Friday, but he could never go a single day without hearing his son's voice.

I was terribly wrong, though. The person at the other end of the line was someone I didn't expect to hear and specifically didn't _want_ to hear. Someone who I thought had gotten my point.

"How the fuck do you even _dare_ calling?" I venomously spat at Gabriel. "Didn't you have enough with what you did? Didn't the thought cross your head that your jealousy-filled stupidity could have ruined other lives besides mine?"  


"You're admitting that you're guilty of what I denounced you for?" he mocked.  


" _No_ , my conscience is clear and there's a reason why I'm not in jail, don't you think? Luckily Frank has a father who knows about us and sees nothing wrong in it. But you know it _could_ have gone wrong, you sick fucker!"  


"Oh, please! _You_ talk about being a sick fucker? What do you call your _revenge_? That subject was something personal, something only _I_ should have decided whether to tell my parents!"  


"Gabriel...you're fucking 25. Didn't you wait enough? Aren't you old enough to accept yourself to start with?" I remarked tiredly.  


"That's...not...your...business, Gerard! What you did was _low_. Now my father seems to hate me, my mother had a huge discussion with him while defending me, and my younger brother won't stop making fun of me! Then when I wanted to release some of my anger by calling you, I found out you changed your number. I had to phone all our friends in common to see if someone was still in touch with you and tell them it was an urgency!"  


"Steven, wasn't it?" I groaned. He'd never been much of a friend of Gabriel, but I couldn't think of anyone else. The poor guy could have never imagined this, though.  


"It doesn't matter, don't change the subject! You hate me that much, Gee? Don't you have any good memory of us?" he cried. I could hear him sniffing on the phone and it was unbelievable. Was he serious? When did he become the victim?  


"Ok, ok! Point one: you have no right to tell me all this and treat me like a piece of shit when you nearly ruined my life. I could have gone to jail, Frank could have ended up in a creepy madhouse. That doesn't compare to your stupid family crisis, so shut the fuck up. Point two: do you think you're the center of the universe? Well, earth to Gabriel! You're _not_. I didn't change my phone number because you. Point three: I don't hate you, I _pity_ you, and you killed all the good memories I might still have. Anything else you need to say? I'm busy."  


"Don't you understand that I was desperate? I love you, Gerard! I know I might have gone a little too far, but what _you_ did...how could you call my father and tell him that? If you hadn't, now I would be apologizing..."  


" _Now_ , we're even. Or not exactly, but I'll give you that if you please fuck off," I cut him short.  


"You're right, we're not even. You had things solved, I still have to put up with the consequences of your prank call, you know?"  


"Listen, Gabriel: if you fuck with me or the people I love one more time, I'll decorate the whole town and its surroundings with pink flyers proclaiming your flaming homosexuality in fluorescent bold font. I'm sure your macho friends would find it interesting..." I let out, chuckling at the idea.  


"What...what makes you think my friends don't know?"  


"A hunch, and your stuttering just confirmed it."  


"You wouldn't do that!" he screamed.  


"I won't if you finally acknowledge the fact that you have no chance with me. It's been over for more than a year, I don't love you, I don't wanna see you anymore so do me one last favor and leave me the fuck alone. Have a nice day, Gabriel." I hung up satisfied.

My smile faded when I came down from my rage-high and saw Frankie looking at me open mouthed. How much had he heard?  


"Sorry, I was washing the dishes and he suddenly disappeared," Grace apologized.  


"It's okay, I know he can be fast. How long has he been here?" I asked worriedly. I didn't want to talk to Frankie about the problems Gabriel had been giving me, it could turn out to be complicated. He knew I'd had a boyfriend called Gabriel and why we had broken up, but I had never told him when he reappeared months ago and even less that he was the one who denounced me.  


"I'm not sure...not much, I guess," she doubted. 

Frankie was pensive, biting his thumb. "G-gee...that G-gabri-el...is th-the one that was your b-boyfriend? Wh-why were you c-cursing and all an-angry?" he questioned.  


"It was nothing, baby. Just...someone who did some bad things, that's why I was cursing," I tried to escape.  


"B-but...you said 'I d-don't love you' and...and o-others things that...p-people tell their b-boyfriends when th-they're angry. Wh-why?" He demonstrated that he had heard more than I thought and that TV could be rather educative.  


"Frankie...you're right, it _was_ the same Gabriel I've told you about and I was angry at him. Now I have to go to work 'cause it's getting late." I grabbed his face. "I promise that when I'm back I'll tell you _why_ I was bitching at him and I'll explain everything to you, ok?"  


"N-no...wanna know _n-now_!"  


"There's no time, love. We'll talk later, you don't have anything to worry about. Trust me?" I opened my arms, waiting for a goodbye hug. 

Frank hesitated for some seconds, giving in at last. "K-kay, love you!"  


"I love you too, very much!" I replied with a kiss.  


"I'll try to distract him, maybe he'll forget?" Grace whispered as she closed the door. She knew nearly everything about Gabriel, therefore comprehended my fear. I didn't think Frankie would forget, though.  


******  


The subject was far from forgotten at my return. Frankie jumped onto me, kissed me, told me he loved me. He related everything he had done with Grace: the games they played, what she cooked for him and the TV shows they watched. He showed me the colorful drawing of her he had made and even commented how Puppy seemed to like her a lot. Everything in no more than ten minutes. I thought I'd been lucky...until he dragged me to the couch and invited me to sit down.  


"K-kay, now you t-tell me 'bout th-that boy."  


"I'll leave you alone so you can talk." Grace gave me a sympathetic look and walked out of the living room.  


"It's...it's nothing too important, Frankie..." I stammered. At that moment I wasn't thinking about Frank's condition, that wasn't the reason why I found it so hard to speak. I was just like any boy confronted by his boyfriend and impelled to talk about his ex who had somehow reappeared in his life. _Not easy._  


"Y-you lie! It...it's impor-tant 'cause you w-were screaming and c-cursing. T-tell me? W-won't get angry 'c-cause you...you t-told him you d-don't love him. If...if you h-had told him you l-loved him I'd be angry 'c-cause you're _my_ b-boyfriend. And...and I'd k-kick your ass...and the l-little people would at-attack you...badly!" He said all that with the most serious expression.  


I realised that it didn't matter how odd or bizarre our conversations could sound to onlookers. We were, in essence, like any other couple. We could trust each other. I might have to be careful, choose my words and make them simple; but I knew Frankie was able to understand and he had the right to know what was going on.  


"Oh, good that I'm safe then, 'cause it sounds painful!" I acted alleviated and he giggled, glancing sideways at the coffee table.

"N-no no, go a-away. T-told you he d-didn't do anything b-bad and we're h-having an im-important talk here! F-fuck!" He waited, his eyes following what I couldn't see to the corridor. "G-gee, you can t-talk now."  


"Okay. Back then when you asked and I told you about Gabriel, I hadn't seen him again since we broke up."  


"H-he lives far a-away?"  


"No, but I'd never found him in the street or anything." I shrugged.  


"Ahh..."  


"Oh, wait...yes, I saw him once. He was with a girl who wanted to kiss him, and he didn't look too happy," I recollected.  


"Wh-why?"  


"Because...Gabriel tells everybody that he likes boobs, but it's a lie," I simplified.  


"Th-that's so s-silly! If...if you d-don't like boobs, you d-don't like boobs and it's o-okay. L-lying is _bad_."  


"And you're right, but he's stupid."  


"Wh-what else?"  


"One day when I left the store, he was waiting for me," I disclosed. 

Frankie arched his eyebrows in surprise. After that he became abstracted, inflating his cheeks and with that kind of look that is blind even if the eyes are open. "Wh-when?" he queried. "Y-you never told m-me..."  


"I know, baby. It happened soon after those guys shot me in the arm." I wasn't keen on that subject, I knew it frightened Frankie. I just wanted him to understand why I hadn't mentioned my encounter with Gabriel. "You'd been too nervous and scared, and then you got your medication increased. Goldberg said you needed to be calm, that's why I didn't tell you."  


"Oh..." I could tell Frank was confused, making a big effort to pay attention and understand. "...and wh-what he wanted?"  


"He knew I was with somebody -I mean, that I had a new boyfriend..."  


"M-me!" He jumped and raised a hand.  


"Yes, you!" I laughed, mentally thanking his interruptions because they made the conversation less rigid. "He knew and he was jealous, so he started telling me that he still loved me and wanted us to be boyfriends again..."  


"Wh-what? AS-ASSHOLE! B-but...but NO! H-he was bad and d-didn't want his f-family to know you w-were his b-boyfriend and...and that he w-was gay and he's s-stupid 'cause being g-gay is not bad! Y-you...you're _MY_ B-BOYFRIEND NOW!" he screamed, waving his hands so violently that I had to move back so he would not hit me.  


"Frankie..."  


"N-NO, BUT...!"  


I seized his arms and shook him gently. "Frankie, calm down! It was like two months ago and of course I told him no!"   


"Y-you did?"  


"Ain't I with you?" I brought to notice.  


"Y-yeah...but in m-movies some p-people have two b-boyfriends or girl-friends..."  


"Not me, I only love _you_ and don't want anyone else. That's what I told Gabriel. Well, that and to fuck off." I grinned.  


"Awww l-love you too! And wh-what you t-told him was g-good!" He kissed me satisfied, then meditated once again. "Wh-why you bitched at h-him on the ph-phone today? H-he bothered you ag-again? W-want me to k-kick his ass?"  


"Uh...that's more complicated, love." I wished I could skip that part.  


"T-tell me?"  


"You know when the police came and they took us to the station and all that mess?" I decided to make it simple yet direct.  


"Y-yes..." Frank was even more confounded now.  


"Gabriel was the one who told them to do that..."  


"F-FUCKING ASSHOLE! WH-WHY SO M-MEAN!" He discharged his frustration on a cushion, punching it and wringing it.  


"Because he was jealous and angry at me and...he's an idiot."  


"H-how he knew I'm s-special? 'C-cause the police-men kn-knew so...you t-told Gabriel?" he manifested one of those conclusions that I didn't think he could come up with. I realised that many times I somehow underestimated Frank. He required more patience and time, which didn't mean he was incapable.  


"I swear I didn't, that was not any of his business. However, I saw him a couple of times when we were at the park and I guess he heard us talking and..." It hurt to continue. "...he must have noticed you...were 'special'."

"Ah." He sighed and slid his finger under his glasses, wiping his eyes before the tears fell. "G-gee?"  


"Yes?"  


"I s-sound like...l-like a retard, right?" he mumbled against my shirt.  


"Frank!" I said firmly, obliging him to look at me. "I've told you millions of time to _never_ use that word. It's wrong. _No one_ should be called that, no matter what illness they have, how they speak or how smart they are. It's a horrible word and it only makes people feel sad, you understand?"  


"Y-yeah but...but ev-everybody..."  


"I don't care what everybody says, ignore them, you're better than them, you're a good person and I don't want you to use that word, not even on yourself. _Even less_ on yourself!"  


"K-kay." He nodded frantically.  


"Forget about Gabriel, I already punished him." I didn't want Frank to dwell again on how people could tell he had mental problems. There wasn't any other positive thing to tell him about it, we could only deal with it.  


"H-how?"  


"I called his dad and told him that I had been his son's boyfriend and Gabriel had lied about having a girlfriend so they wouldn't know he was gay," I admitted pridefully. 

Frankie took some seconds to think over my words. "Ex-explain what you d-did again...more s-slow?" he requested shyly.  


"Of course! Sorry baby, I talk too much and too fast!"

I presented Frankie with a more detailed, decelerated version of my phone retaliation. He loved it and considered that Gabriel deserved it. First, for being an asshole and second, for being silly and not telling his parents that he was gay. Frankie professed that being gay was _awesome_.

"Today," I arrived to the final point. "he called me to say how mad he was at me for what _I_ did. So, now you know why I bitched at him like that, what he did first was so much worse!"  


"Y-yes! L-lemme kick his ass?"  


"Maybe some day, yeah! Oh, and I told him that I don't love him because well, I don't, and that I wanted him to stop bothering me. I think he got it now."  


"If...if he d-does again you t-tell me, kay? S-stop hiding things f-from me, G-gerard! I'm y-your boyfriend and g-gotta know so I c-can kick asses...uh...m-maybe," Frank reprimanded me.  


I knew I should have acted guilty because hell, he was right! But...how could I? He was endearing, making his voice graver for a more menacing effect. I just wanted to kiss him.  


"A while ago you asked me how you sounded. My answer is that you sound sweet, adorable, unique and...like someone who wants to be kissed." I dived forward before he could protest or object. The avid response I got from his lips showed no signs of disapproval.  


"S-still kinda m-mad..." he breathed in my ear. His body and actions disagreed. 


	69. Chapter 69

_Yesterday,_   
_all my troubles seemed so far away,_   
_now it looks as though they're here to stay._   
_Oh, I believe in yesterday._

As much as the desire was there and our heated make out session was bound to end up turning into more, we couldn't go too far. One moment we were prisoners of a temporary amnesia; blinded by passion, hands and lips everywhere while we got lost in our own world. The next one we were grinning nervously at Grace; panting through our swollen mouths, keeping our bodies close so that she wouldn't notice just _how_ happy we were.  


"Uh...I didn't hear any more voices so I...came to check if you had finished talking and everything was fine and..." She spoke rapidly, her eyes shifting from us to any random spot. "...I see you're...doing great."  


"Yeah...we...are fine, thanks." I could feel the blood rushing to my face with my embarrassment, fighting to get those words out at the same time that Frank's hips bucked against mine.

Although Grace left the room, I didn't think it was correct to continue with our affair there now that she knew what we were up to. I wouldn't even be able to concentrate. However, I was too worked up to just let it cool down. I looked into Frankie's eyes and had the certainty that I wasn't the only one.  


"N-nooo don't l-leave I...uh..." He caught my arm as soon as I got off the couch, whining pleadingly while his other hand automatically moved down to supplant the missing friction.  


"You're coming with me, let's go take a shower." I winked. 

Frank first glanced at me like I was crazy, voicing that he wanted -no, needed- to make love first. He changed his mind when I whispered my second intentions and he followed me to the bathroom with shaking legs. Once the door was closed and the water running to isolate us from the world -Grace- we finished what we had previously started.  


Fresh and clean but a little worn out, we walked into the kitchen hand in hand to find Grace with Frank's pills ready. She also had dinner half prepared.  


"Here you are, Frankie. Maybe I should give Gerard a pill too, so you would both calm down." She stared at me seeming more serious than ever. She was definitely mad.  


"We...." I gulped, unable to go on. I perfectly understood that she must have felt uncomfortable with our behavior and of course, Frankie couldn't be blamed; only I. 

However, when I was about to beg for forgiveness, Grace's severe expression faltered. She sputtered and began to laugh loudly. "I was joking, Gerard!" was all she managed to say, though it was enough to help me loosen up and join the laughter. "You should have seen your face!"  


Jokes aside, Grace still kept a certain control over us while possible. She accepted our relationship and had no real problem with it; she had dispelled all her doubts through the phone along the months. Nevertheless she was a mother; she felt Frankie as her son, her baby. It was understandable that she'd find it hard to get used to him being in love, to see him doing things she had never imagined him doing. On the other hand she was glad that Frank was leading a somewhat normal teenage life. For that reason I didn't mind the control, I was honored with Grace's presence and pleased with Frank's joy at having her with us.  


******

The nurse would be leaving on Saturday afternoon, so we decided to have a 'family' lunch before she parted. Frankie, Grace, Anthony, Greg, my mom, Ray, Bob and me. Mikey excused himself saying that he and Alicia had a lot to study, but I guessed he had witnessed enough displays of affection for a week. I laughed picturing the discussion he'd surely had with his girlfriend until she finally gave up and let him have his way.  


The meal was, indeed, emotive. It was full of stories, experiences, tears and laughter. My eyes were drawn to Anthony at several times, contemplating him while he listened to Grace's narrations. Through her, the man was getting back some of the innumerable memories from Frank's childhood that he had missed. He was paying maximal attention to the details, asking lots of questions; now and then closing his eyes to recreate situations, places, faces. Borrowing Grace's mental snapshots, gathering them to later pretend that they were his own during those moments when the realization of the large amount of time lost was unbearable. He had told me. He had mentioned how sometimes the only way to help ease his mind and be able to sleep was to pretend -relying on made up memories- that he had seen his son growing up.  


There were other moments when Tony would just look at Frank and smile, wide and spontaneously. The past erased in pursuit of a present and a future together.  


******  


Grace's parting wasn't easy for either her or Frank. We drove her to the airport and not even the sight of the planes -which would have otherwise made him highly hyperactive- served to distract Frankie. He clung to Grace the whole time, not looking at any other thing than her face. I could swear I heard the woman's heart break when my mother needed to remove the boy from her so she'd be able to board the plane.  


"Please don't be so sad, kiddo...I'll call you lots of times and I promise we'll see each other again. You have a family now and they all love you lots. You know I have other kids to take care of there, some of them don't have anyone..." Grace kept rubbing her eyes, wiping away the tears that constantly clouded them. She forced a smile for the sobbing young boy, who also swept salty trails with the back of his hand.  


"I...I kn-know, I c-can share you with...w-with the other k-kids. Y-yes, don't l-let the assholes h-hurt them or m-make them cry, k-kay?" Frankie gave Grace a breath-restraining hug and finally let her go with a tender, long kiss on the cheek.  


"I won't, I'll kick their asses. You be a good boy and please, Frankie: be happy, you deserve it." With one more hug and kiss that were unwilling to end, Grace painfully turned her back; a quick look and a wave at us from the top of the stairway before she disappeared.

Frank kept quiet all the way back home, safely nestled in my mother arms; the kind of support he needed at that moment. We respected his silence and didn't try to interfere, though we were worried about how this would affect him.

Once again, he surprised us with his fortitude and recovered incredibly fast. After a mere hour -that he still spent with my mom without emitting a single sound- he was suddenly speaking of Grace with an honest smile on his lips. _He_ explained _to us_ why she couldn't stay longer and how much the other special kids needed her. Next, he enthusiastically invited us to play Nintendo with him, closing the sad chapter. Grace had told him to be happy, after all.  


******

Another Monday arrived and we were back to our routine, the one I never complained about. Ray had showed up earlier than usual, so the three of us had breakfast together. Well, we apparently were more than three at the table.  


"Gerard...he's been doing that a lot, lately," Ray referred to Frankie, who was in a full conversation with some invisible being -or beings- in front of him. Talking, laughing, gesturing while he ate his cereal. "I especially noticed last Saturday. Don't you think that..."  


"No," I replied dryly. "Don't start, Ray. I'm _not_ gonna dope him up more, he takes enough shit already. He confessed that he was seeing his imaginary friends again so I gave him permission to talk to them. He's happy doing it, so why force him to hide it from us? That's what he was doing... Look Ray, if you feel uncomfortable with..."  


"You know it's not that!" he exclaimed, lowering his voice when Frankie eyed us confusedly. "I don't mind him talking to his...friends. It's just that...are you sure it's good for him? Doesn't it drive him away from reality?"  


"No it doesn't, it's just for moments and he _knows_ they're not real. It hasn't changed the way he connects with us so far, he still stops and pays attention if you talk to him."  


"Well, not always..." Ray was about to say something else but refrained. "Did you consult it with Goldberg at least?"  


"Yes..." I paused when I caught the incredulous look that my friend showed me. "I'm not lying, Ray, I did ask him."  


"What did he say?" he tried me. 

I pried at Frankie. He was giggling, covering the bowl with his arms and calling his friends 'non-existent food stealer assholes'. It was weird to admit it, but part of that compassion I had once felt for him and his troubled mind had been replaced by an ounce of jealousy. Sometimes I just wanted to be like him, see what he saw, understand one hundred percent what it was like.  


"He said that Frankie's made some significant improvement in the way he communicates with people and even his reasoning has gotten a little better. However, all the changes and stress he's been through these last months since he left the institution...kinda worsened his condition -I'm talking about his schizophrenia. It's not something big and the symptoms _might_ lessen again with time but...yeah, that," I explained.  


"Poor kid," Ray mumbled. "But didn't the doc suggest more medication?"  


"Yes, but at the same time he said it's not strictly necessary as long as he feels okay. He also agreed that Frankie has the right to take part in some decisions about his own health."  


"Well, that's true...though it might be a problem if he starts going to school, he could get too distracted."  


"We'll deal with that when the moment comes." I shrugged. "I actually think that being busier and making some real friends will help him."  


"You're right there," he smiled. "Sorry for intruding and giving my opinion like this, I know it's not my business, really."  


"No need to apologize, Ray. I'm just too jumpy when it comes to Frankie, but I know you mean well. It _is_ your business. You take care of him and...aren't you his 'uncle'?"  


"Y-yep you're my un-uncle and I love you, R-ray!" Frankie butted in with a mouth full of toast. "B-but don't be m-mad at Gee, _I_ s-said no more p-pills, n-not his fault! I'm f-fine!"  


"I know, Frankie. I'm not mad at Gee, promise." Ray kissed the top of Frank's head as he passed by him to leave his own cup in the sink.  


"K-kay!" Frank handed him his bowl. "F-finished, gonna d-draw now 'cause I...I t-told Mel I'd d-draw her."  


"Frankie, can I ask you a question?" I told him when he was back with all the elements.  


"Yep, wh-what?"  


"Why don't you ever draw the gnomes or the little people?"  


"Th-they..." He pointed over the table. "...don't w-want me to and..."  


"Who is there? I can't see them, baby. Remember?"  


"Ah...y-yeah." He seemed disappointed every time I reminded him of that. "Th-the gnomes are h-here. D-dunno why they d-don't want me to d-draw them. I th-think 'cause they s-say I'm not g-good enough. B-but I don't c-care. Th-then the little p-people...they're a l-lot. Y-yeah, that. T-too many to d-draw and...and th-they're so little I c-can't see their f-faces well."  


"How many are they?" Ray asked.  


"D-dunno. T-too many too little to c-count!"  


"And the gnomes? They're a lot too?" I inquired as I grabbed my bag.  


"Uh...n-no...lemme c-count them. One...t-two...three...four...f-five...six...s-six gnomes, yep!"  


Ray chuckled. "Oh, now you can feel like Snow White, Gerard!"   


"He said they're _six_ ," I emphasized.  


"Frankie can be the seventh."  


"N-no I can't!" he protested. "S-see any green p-pointy hat? Or...or b-big nose? Or...uh...m-my belly's not _that_ b-big and I'm not _th-that_ small!"  


"Ok, ok, I got the differences!" Ray laughed.  


"An-and Gee's not S-snow White, he's m-my prince!" Frankie abandoned his drawing and came to give me a good-bye kiss.  


"Oh my God! Is it Cheesiness Day today or what?" my friend groaned.

I left for work in a very good mood, genuinely content with my life. It was far from perfect, but I had never searched for perfection. I wanted a purpose, something to make everything meaningful. I wanted to love and be loved. Now my life was nearly complete since I'd found it all in Frankie and plus, I had the best friends and family.

It was a gelid morning. The sun hadn't been up long enough to defreeze the air yet and I cursed myself for having forgotten my gloves. All the same the day was bright and the sky so blue that I didn't consider being confined to a car a good idea. I zipped my jacket up to my neck, sunk my hands deep into my pockets and walked; a steady yet not rushed pace. I had time.

The store was deserted -like it usually was at those hours- and Sarah was nowhere in sight. As I went straight to the back room where we left our belongings, a hand seized me by my sleeve to stop me.  


"What the...?" I was face to face with the coworker who had been making fun of me since that time when he eavesdropped on me helping Ray with Frank's sex questions. I presumed he was bored and I was again his target. It felt like high school. "Brad, it's too early for your jokes..."  


"Jokes? I precisely just found out that they weren't jokes." There was something different in the way he looked at me, he didn't appear to be amused but annoyed.  


"Uh? What's wrong with you?"  


"What's wrong with _you_ , Way!" he retorted, confusing me more and more. "I already suspected that you were gay, so that part didn't surprise me and I don't care but...damn! I'd have never thought you were a pervert! Appearances deceive..."  


"What the fuck are you talking about, Brad?" I pushed him off me. "This is not funny."  


"Of course it's not funny! I'll tell you what I'm talking about: you've been unmasked, your lies just came to light!" he spat. I prayed it wasn't what I thought.

"I have no idea of what you're saying and I need to go work, so if you excuse me..." I attempted to enter the room but he stood in my way.  


"No, I don't excuse you, no one will."  


"Could you be clearer?"  


"Ok. Someone called to let us know about the kind of piece of shit working with us. This person, said that Frank's not your brother...but your lover! How could you fool Sarah...and all of us for so many months, you _sicko_?" Those words poured out of his mouth with that well known repulsion. How many times would I have to hear them? How many times would I have to defend myself against a crime I hadn't committed? More important, who had called? I could only think of one name: Gabriel. The fucker had took revenge over my revenge. Was he determined to ruin my life?  


"What? NO!" I screamed. "I'm not a pervert and I didn't fool anyone! I didn't have a relationship with Frank when I started working here..." I hated my idiotic mouth...or my inability to think better before speaking.  


"So, you're admitting that you do have one now. You keep an innocent, mentally ill kid as your lover!" He placed his open palm on my chest and pressed me against the door behind me. The guy seemed ready to punch me.  


"He's not my _lover_ , he's my _boyfriend_ and he might be mentally ill but is not stupid, you don't even fucking know him enough to talk!"  


"I _do_ know him enough. When he visits the store he plays with the mobile, draws, sings and dances for us, asks a lot of questions and speaks like a kid. Don't come tell me that boy's mature enough to be in a relationship with you, _please,_ " Brad spluttered with rage. 

I didn't know what to answer. My words were useless when confronted with facts. They were useless at least for everyone who hadn't seen the whole Frank, hadn't met his whole personality.  


I wondered what I'd think if I saw things from the other side. Would I be that quick to judge? Would I give the person the benefit of doubt? Would I be willing to hear their side of the story? It was hard to know now, when I was on the blamed side. Besides, Frankie had taught me so much along those months that I had become a new, better person; more open-minded. But...would my old self have reacted like Brad did? If I couldn't answer that question, I couldn't exactly blame him.

"I'm not a perv, I'm not," I whispered defeated.  


"Oh, so it seems you have nothing relevant to say, uh?" He shoved me for what felt like the hundredth time when I intended to escape his grip.  


"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING!" I shouted. I had forgotten our true location, for an instant I was back in school and he was the bully. I had never been one to resist the abuse in silence, though. You could beat me, but never shut me up.

"What's happening here?" Sarah chose the worst moment to make her entrance, watching aghast while her two employees cursed and pushed each other.  


Brad let go of my shirt and straightened up. "I can tell you, Sarah."   


"You have _bullshit_ to say," I murmured so only he would hear it.  


"No no, Gerard. It's _not_ bullshit. For some reason I trusted this person who called and well, you weren't able to deny it, so..." He smirked. I was tempted to erase that fucking smirk off his face.  


"What is it that he couldn't deny? Can you explain why you were fighting, boys?" Sarah's tone was as gentle as ever. I often tried to picture her angry and it was nearly impossible. Now, I was about to cause that feeling in her and it hurt, it hurt to disappoint a person who had helped me so much.  


"Someone called while you were busy and told me some interesting facts about Gerard. Frankie is not his brother, they live together but in a kind of...relationship, you know what I mean?"  


"What?" Sarah gasped and brought a hand to her chest. "Are you sure it wasn't a joke? Did you hear right?"

"I'm sure, and Gerard couldn't deny it." He stopped and was pensive, acting shocked. "With little, innocent Frankie! He's sick."  


"Shh," she hushed him and looked at me, fearful but hopeful. I knew what was coming and I would not lie again. "Gerard...is that true?"  


"I...when I came here looking for a job I'd only known Frankie for three days. I found him in the street and didn't want the police involved. I was afraid of where he might end up, that's why I said he was my brother."  


"Tell her the rest!" Brad instigated me.  


"With time, Frankie and I fell in love with each other, he's my boyfriend." I stared truthfully at Sarah's eyes.  


"Gerard, Frankie is like...a little kid. What are you saying?" She was nearly in tears.  


"A little kid... _and a boy_!" Brad wasn't an homophobe -even though he loved to tease me for fun, but now I was the worst slag in his eyes. He was just testing the territory, throwing in hints that might add to Sarah's anger and disgust. He probably thought that all old women recoiled in horror at the idea of two men together.  


"Oh...no, Brad. Wait there." She signaled him to let her speak and turned to me. "First of all, Gerard: don't think I have a problem with you being gay. I've worked with artists all my life and there are a lot of gay people inside this ambit; all wonderful, sweet people. So it's not that, but...Frankie?"  


"He's not always like you th..."  


"Why did you lie to me? You were so sincere about Frank's illness and then you hid all this? Gerard, I employed you when no one was doing it and treated you like a son. I can't believe this..." Sarah cried, shaking her head and avoiding my eyes. The damage was done, Gabriel had succeeded in destroying a part of my life. I had lost the first job I truly enjoyed.  


"I only _lied_ about him being my brother, and believe me when I say it was necessary. If then I hid the rest it was because I knew no one would understand. It's always the same. I'm _so_ tired of being a monster in most people's eyes."  


"Stop playing the victim, Way! What you're doing is like fucking a 10 year-old, for God's sake!" Brad yelled in my face.

That's when I had enough. I took a hold of his shirt with both hands and shook him violently, with bottled-up fury. I wanted to make him pay for every person who'd doubted me. I wanted to hurt him, beat him until he reasoned and listened to my truth. I had ran out of words, I was a mouse in a maze; desperate and dazed.  


"SHUT THE FUCK UP, I'M _NOT_ ABUSING HIM! YOU AND EVERYONE WHO THINKS THAT ARE THE SICK ONES! THIS IS ABOUT _LOVE_! LOVE, NOT PERVERSION, AND BY DOUBTING ME YOU'RE DOUBTING FRANK. HE THINKS, HE OPINES, HE SAYS WHAT'S ON HIS MIND, HE DECIDES, HE LOVES. I'M NOT FUCKING FORCING HIM, YOU HEAR ME? I LOVE HIM!" I was screaming at the top of my lungs, out of control; shaking Brad so strongly that his head was bobbing helplessly and he didn't dare say a word. Sarah was shouting too, though I was too enraged to hear.  


One of my hands let go of him only to curl up in a fist and aim at his face. He was scared, so scared of what had possessed me that his face worked like a mirror to me. I saw how far I had gone and lowered my hand. This wasn't me, this was not how I usually solved my problems. My fellow worker had seen things from the outside and was too fast to jump to conclusions, which didn't mean he was the enemy.

With my last rash of adrenaline, I pushed him against a shelf. He fell on his butt, a few folders and notebooks landing on his head. Only then I noticed three customers frozen in the middle of a corridor.  


"Fucking psycho!" Brad shot at me.  


"Gerard...out!" Sarah pointed towards the exit. 

By then I had cooled down and was a crying mess. "I...I'm fired, right? Please I...I'm just so t-tired of people misunderstanding but I...I need the job..."  


"This behavior was unacceptable. I understand that Brad provoked you, but I can't let this pass. About the other subject I really don't know what to think. For now you're not fired, just suspended, because I do know how much you need the job. I'll take a week to meditate it and then I'll call you, but don't get your hopes up too much," she informed me.  


"I...thanks..." was all I managed to say.  


"Only suspended? Sarah, are you sure...?" Brad restarted.  


"You...out, too!" she cut him off.  


"What? But..."  


"Out. At least for today and tomorrow I don't want to see your face either," she insisted.  


My feet weighted a ton as I walked out of the store. I didn't feel the cold, I didn't listen to Brad bitching at me a little more, I couldn't see through my tears. When I tried to make the short-circuited machinery inside my head function, it only came up with a request and an advice. It requested alcohol to numb and forget. It advised me to be strong and not let my achievements go wasted. Frankie needed _me_ , that was far more important than my need for alcohol. Yet it was so tempting that I didn't trust myself. Remembering what Ray had told me to do in those cases, I fumbled for my cellphone and called home.  


"Hello?"  


"R-ray it's me I..." I couldn't tell if it was the temperature, anger or nerves making me tremble.  


"Gerard, what's wrong?" Ray asked.  


"I...they know, Ray. Sarah...she knows and...fuck!"  


"They know...what? Calm down and tell me."  


"About...Frankie and me. She knows...knows I lied and Brad said h-horrible things and I lost it and Sarah said I'm s-suspended but I know she'll fire me. Fuck, Ray I need the job and...why? I...please come for me, please or I'll do something I'll regret...p-please..." I hiccuped and began to sob, sitting on the floor against a house's fence; not minding the disinterested looks people gave me.  


"Ok, ok, where are you?"  


"T-two houses from the store..." I glanced around me. "There's a green fence."  


"Don't move, I'll be there in ten minutes," he commanded.  


"But...but Frankie..."  


"I'll bring him with me, Gerard, don't worry."

I didn't count the minutes. I just stared into space, monitored the street, both corners over and over. I waited; my eyes wet, my mouth dry, a burning urge inside my chest. I smoked, I bit my nails, I cried some more. No one asked if I was alright, no one stopped, no one cared. It felt as if the whole world knew, judged, condemned me. It was ridiculous, but just one of those moments when everything matches how you feel. It might have as well been raining, but no; the sun shone above me, blinding my puffy eyes.  


I saw Ray's car appear and instead of getting up I stayed there, weak and broken.  


"Gee, are you okay?" He touched my shoulder and I instantly embraced him, sending him sitting on the floor beside me. I cried even harder, barely breathing.  


"What...who told them?" Ray questioned. He helped me stand up and we headed for the car, where Frankie was waiting in the front seat..  


"Guess...Gabriel, who else? F-fucker...fucking....shit! But Ray, I suck...I fucked up so badly! I made a scene because Brad called me a pervert and he said other stuff about me and Frankie that hurt and I was so damn mad that I almost hit him and..." I went on. 

Ray stopped walking and grabbed me by my arms, forcing me to face him. "Did you hit him?"  


"N-no I didn't...I...couldn't," I replied.  


"Then you didn't fuck up. I'm not sure I could have refrained myself if I'd been in your place."  


"But...it's over, she'll fire me, I know it! Fuck, I need a drink so badly..." I pulled at my hair, furious and exhausted.  


"Oh no, you need to go in the car with your boyfriend and stop thinking for a while."  


"Kay." I let Ray guide me, a brainless zombie with a blank stare. 

I heard a couple more noises of doors opening and closing and a pair of short arms encircled me. Frankie felt warm and quilted, covered with several layers of clothes. I laid half of my body on his lap, my arms around his waist, my hands hidden in between his back and the backrest. He caressed my hair, filled me with kisses, and everything seemed a little bit better.  


"Take care of him, Frankie. He needs some coddling." Ray's voice was followed by the car's engine as we took off. None of us spoke for the first minutes, though I could see the questions itching to be asked when I looked Frank in the eyes.  


"G-gee...it w-was my fault ag-again? I h-heard and..."  


"No, baby, no!" I couldn't let him blame himself for everything, though it was hard to avoid. "It was _my_ fault. Sarah got angry because I lied, I told her I was your brother. This boy Brad...he did say some bad things because he can't understand that we love each other. But that doesn't matter, he's not my boss. It's all my fault for lying to Sarah, believe me. You always say lying is bad and you're right...see how stupid I was?"  


"N-no you're not s-stupid. Y-you lied 'cause...'c-cause you were af-afraid. Y-yes, afraid 'cause s-some people are as-assholes. You t-told me why you s-said I was your b-brother, so th-they would not c-call the police, r-right?" Frank showed that he didn't forget things once he understood them. So many times I had explained it to him, wanting to make sure that he knew it wasn't shame what made me lie. There he was now, reminding me that it wasn't stupidity either, just the need to protect him and keep him with me.  


"Right. I tried to tell Sarah that but...then I got mad at Brad and I screamed and pushed him."  


"I...I s-sometimes do bad th-things to you when...wh-when I'm mad or f-feel weird and I s-scream and hurt y-you and you f-forgive me. S-sarah likes you s-so she'll f-forgive you," he compared. So sweet, so comforting.  


"I know you never mean to hurt me, love."  


"Y-you didn't mean to m-make Sarah an-angry! Or...or h-hurt Brad 'c-cause you're a very g-good boy. Yep." Frankie kissed my lips and smiled right when the car stopped. 

I wasn't going to contradict him by saying that for an instant I did want to hurt Brad. What he had told me was too beautiful to ruin it. "Thank you."  


We didn't touch the subject anymore once home. I didn't want to. Ray didn't dare. Frankie knew actions helped more than words sometimes. He and I cuddled on the couch for hours, in silence, while Ray prepared lunch. Fries and beefsteaks that Frank devoured and I didn't even try. I was too occupied thinking, pondering, weighting possibilities. There wasn't much to do about Sarah, only wait. Wait and despair. I didn't have much hope, nearly any hope. 

However, if I was going to be unemployed again, at least Gabriel had to pay for it. It was only fair, wasn't it? But then...what about my 'that's not how I solve problems' rant? What would Frank think if I went and punched Gabriel?  


I did my best to keep those thoughts away and only hear Frank's voice as he read me a story, yet I couldn't focus. The anger was killing me. A ball of fire inside my chest, lava running through my veins. Burning, urging, encouraging me. Ray was in the bedroom talking on his phone and I grasped the opportunity.  


"Frankie...I gotta go buy more candy, there aren't many left and I'm afraid I'll forget tomorrow." It was true, anyway. "I'll get some other things from the supermarket, too. You tell Ray not to worry, I'll be back pretty soon, ok?"  


"C-can't I go with y-you?" he asked innocently, almost making me draw back. Almost.  


"No babe, it's too cold and Ray's gonna worry more if we both leave."  


"K-kayyy, meanie! H-hurry up."  


"I will."  


I ran; going for the car was a waste of time and Ray would hear me. _Eight blocks_ I ran, only stopping now and then to catch my breath. The house appeared before my eyes and I shuddered. Memories. It'd been so long since I last was there. Never as a boyfriend, always as a friend. Fucking coward.  


I didn't hesitate to ring the doorbell. I didn't wait for Gabriel's father to let me in; I pushed past him as soon as he opened the door and stomped towards that room his son and I had never shared. I knew the way: upstairs, the left door at the end of the corridor. The door was semi opened.  


I don't know why I knew he would be there, but I was right. He was sitting on his bed, placidly reading a book as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't fucked with anybody's life. I wasn't going to ask for permission or pay any mind to mister Schneider's screams.

"Uh...Gerard? What are you d...?" Gabriel didn't finished the phrase. The punch I had reserved for him crashed with his jaw and he fell backwards on the bed. Why wasn't he standing?  


"Gee...w-why?"  


"SHUT UP!" I locked the door and pinned him down. "WHAT THE FUCK WHERE YOU THINKING? DO YOU EVEN HAVE A BRAIN? DIDN'T YOU HAVE ENOUGH WITH ALMOST SENDING ME TO JAIL? YOU _HAD_ TO FUCK WITH MY JOB TOO, YOU...YOU'RE SO DAMN SICK, GABRIEL! SO FUCKING SICK! WHAT ELSE, NOW? WHAT ELSE? KILL ME 'CAUSE I DON'T WANNA GO BACK TO YOU?"  


"I...I didn't..." he cried. I raised my hand again and he caught it, fighting me.  


"DON'T GIVE ME THAT SHIT, I KNOW YOU CALLED THE PLACE WHERE I WORK!" I continued with my accusation while we struggled.  


"I'M NOT G-GIVING YOU ANY SHIT, GERARD! I DIDN'T C-CALL YOUR WORK! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING, I SWEAR!" he shouted in between sobs, his blue eyes fixed on mine without blinking. I saw surprise, confusion, fear. No sarcasm, no lie.  


He was telling the truth.


	70. Chapter 70

_Thunder, lightning,_  
 _the wind outside is so damn frightening._  
 _But it's alright, all right, stand clear,_  
 _you're living in the hurricane years_.

As if lightning had stricken me I recoiled, my back hitting the wall behind. My fingers clutched the bedspread, my legs folded against my body. I closed my eyes, crying, wishing it all away. "Please let me not be in Gabriel's bedroom, tell me I _didn't_ come here to beat the shit outta him without even talking first and his parents _aren't_ about to knock the door down," I supplicated in my thoughts.  


"GABRIEL! GERARD! WHAT'S HAPPENING IN THERE? OPEN THE DOOR!" mister Schneider shouted, his knuckles pounding on the wood.  


"Please, tell me this was at least justified," I prayed. I opened just one eye, wanting to confirm I hadn't been wrong about his innocence but with the secret hope that I'd see a hint of slyness in my ex. It _had_ to be him who called...who else if not?  


There was nothing, though; nothing in his face that could mark him as guilty or a liar. He was crying, he looked worried and his right hand was reaching out to touch my face.

"D-don't touch me!" I instinctively said, louder than I intended.  


"Gerard, are you ok?" he asked. 

I couldn't reply, I didn't know how I felt.  


"SON, ANSWER RIGHT NOW OR I'M BREAKING IN!" came the angry voice from outside. "IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT? DO YOU WANT ME TO CALL THE POLICE?"  


"No, please..." I sobbed, realising that the nearly maniac way in which I had acted could give them the right to do so. 

Gabriel looked me in the eye and for a moment I saw the person he used to be before his disrespect, my disappointment, his obsession, our revenges.  


"NO DAD, IT'S NOT NECESSARY, EVERYTHING'S FINE! WE'RE JUST TALKING!" he screamed back.  


"Are you sure, honey?" his mother questioned.  


Gabriel was still staring at me. "Yes, mom, I'm sure." 

I broke down into the kind of sobbing that hurts. I couldn't think clear or react correctly when he pulled me off the wall and wrapped his arms around me. I didn't push him away, I needed to be held. Then Gabriel was speaking, explaining himself even though I hadn't asked for explanations. Of course I had millions of doubts, but I wasn't able to word them.

"Gee I..." That nickname again, it sounded _wrong_ on his lips now. "...I don't know who called the store, but I swear it wasn't me. This person who called...they told your boss about you and your...boyfriend?"  


"Yes, I'd said he was my brother 'cause I was afraid and now...f-fuck..."  


"Shit, boy...I understand why you'd think it was me." He grabbed his face. The side of his mouth, where I had hit him, was red and swelling. Was that remorse I discerned in his attitude, his gestures? "See, after our last talk I was completely enraged. My mother noticed and forced me to have a talk and...I told her everything. Everything I've done to you, before and now."  


"And...?" I sniffed, too tired to achieve the angry intonation I was aiming for.  


He chuckled. "She was fucking mad at me, disappointed. I sat through the worst reprimand I'd endured since I was a little kid. She basically made me see that I went too far. She said I was stupid, selfish, and a coward."  


"Ha," I snorted. "and you needed to hear it from your mom to finally believe it? I've been telling you all that since we broke up. I repeated it every time we talked after you reappeared to stalk me. I told you you should ask for professional help."  


"My mother said that too...in a sweeter tone, of course," he commented, bringing my disdain back.  


"I can't use any other, sorry."  


"It figures, don't worry," he responded sadly.  


I wasn't insensitive, it was painful to see him like that. I imagined how it must feel to take conscience of your errors when it was too late. In certain cases you're still in time to recover something of what you lost, like I'd regained the control of my life. Other things are irrecoverable. He wasn't going to have _me_ back, and it hurt him. 

Knowing I was so important to him didn't give me any sense of power, though. On the contrary, it was sad. Yet I couldn't help how things were, I couldn't help him with that.  


"Gabriel..."  


"It's fine, Gerard, just...know that I didn't make that call and I won't bother you again."  


"I know, I can tell when you lie." I got off the bed and walked towards the door, unlocking it. 

Gabriel's parents detained me.  


"Let him go," he commanded.  


His father kept a vicious grip on my arm. "But son, your face...he hit you, didn't he?"   


"He did because I _deserved_ it. You know why, mom told you. Now let him go," Gabriel expressed forthright.

As soon as mister Schneider complied, I raced down the stairs and to the front door. I was embarrassed, scared, sad, confused. Who had made that phone call if it wasn't Gabriel? The other possibility was highly alarming, and not very reasonable.

I was already outside when Gabriel called my name. I didn't want to turn around, but I did nevertheless. "Yes?"  


"Thank you," he told me softly, with a big smile. He was out of his mind, evidently.  


"What? You're thanking me for...?"  


"Your 'phone prank', you freed me." He laughed and walked inside, closing the door before I could utter a word. If I had ever been in a relationship with a nutcase, that was Gabriel, not Frank.  


******  


That old, known need returned to haunted me. It was my brain screaming it, begging me for something that would give it a rest. I yearned for that welcomed dizziness that alcohol provided. My common sense fought the demand but there it was, still beckoning me from every bar's window. 

I shook my head, stirring those ideas, forcing into my mind the only image that made me strong, the one that reminded me of my responsibilities and everything that was truly important: the face of the boy I loved. I had won another small battle.  


I entered our house and fell into the couch, miserable. I gratefully accepted Frankie's kiss and heartwarming embrace, but dodged Ray's questions.  


"Gerard, I'm talking to you! You're a bad liar, you know? You always forget your lies. Where's what you were supposed to buy? You look like a truck rolled over you, man!" He wouldn't give up. I loved my friend, but in moments like this I just wanted him to shut up.  


"I'm fine, Ray. Just...tired. I actually do feel as if a truck had rolled over me, now that you mention it."  


"You're not gonna convince me that easily." Ray sat in front of me, waiting. 

I looked away and buried my face in the crook of Frank's neck.  


"G-gee, you bu...b-bought candy?" he inquired. _That_ is what I had forgotten. Ray was right, I always lied and then forgot to sustain the lie. What's more, we were running out of candy for real.  


"I...no..." It was like a trigger. I recalled it all and started to cry again, the fact that I had lied to Frankie added to my shame.  


"D-don't cry, G-gee! It...it's f-fine, really! S-still have some and..and th-then I can t-take my pills on t-toasts! It's o-okay...shhh..." Frankie rocked me on his lap. It made me feel safe, loved; although also guiltier.  


"I know, love but...I lied," I confessed. "Or well, kinda. I _was_ going to buy candy -which I forgot- but really, I needed to go out for another reason."  


Frankie stopped moving and frowned. "Wh-why...?" 

"What happened, Gerard?" Ray pushed.  


"Ray...it wasn't Gabriel."  


"What do you mean?"  


"It wasn't Gabriel who called the store!" I blurted out.  


"How do you...where did you go?"  


"That doesn't matter. He wasn't, trust me. So...I can only think of one person -or two- that could be behind this."  


"No, Gerard...they surely know the police are behind them, they wouldn't risk being tracked by a phone call," Ray raised a point.  


"I thought the same but...who else?" I mumbled. 

I was thankful that Frankie didn't seem to be paying attention anymore. We had apparently bored him. He sighed loudly and whispered to Puppy that he didn't understand what we were talking about either.  


"No idea...a neighbor? Another coworker who saw you?" Toro suggested.  


"I hope not, I don't need more people to worry about. Damn! Why won't everybody leave us alone? You're right, it could be anyone, which is scary as fuck."  


"Wh-what's scary as f-fuck and... wh-who has the p-police behind?" Frankie suddenly showed interest. No way I would explain everything to him. I didn't think it would do him any good to become acquainted with everything his mother had done. It was enough to know she had abandoned him. Twice.  


"Oh, the...the bad guys that hurt me, the police are following them."  


"Th-they didn't get th-them yet?" He opened his eyes big with terror. "B-but...but what if th-they come for us?"  


"No, Frankie," Ray rescued me, his glare telling me I had fucked up. "they won't come anywhere near you because the police are watching, they found out where they are and almost got them."  


"S-sure?"  


"Sure," I assented.  


"K-kay. An-and what you said it's s-scary?" Damn Frank's good memory.  


"I was telling Ray that I don't know who's the asshole that told Sarah the truth about us. It scares me because it could be anyone."  


"Ahh! D-don't be s-scared! S-sarah will f-forgive you, anyway." He pecked my lips and his smile was so reassuring that what he said sounded like a premonition. Maybe I had to trust it.

Soon it was time for Ray to leave, since he had to work. However, he kept analyzing my curled up figure and wouldn't move from his spot.  


"Ray...your dad's not going to be happy."  


"Are you sure you're gonna be fine, Gerard?" he asked for the fifth time. I'd counted them.  


"Yes I will, I'll be better tomorrow."  


"Tomorrow? How about now? Gee, look...I can stay. I'll call my dad and tell him you're sick and there's no one else to stay with you."  


"Ray, no. Not necessary and your dad dislikes me enough." I got up with a grunt.  


"He doesn't..."  


I dragged him to the door. "Yes he does, you know he does though we've never known the reason."   


"Y-your dad doesn't l-like Gee?" Frankie cried out. "Wh-why? Gerard's so l-likeable!"  


"I agree!" Ray laughed. "I really don't know."  


"Toro...go."  


"I'll t-take care of G-gee. Yep, you c-can go," Frank assured him.  


"Okay, but you call me for whatever you need, any of you!"  


"Yes, Ray!"  


******

I was considerably fine for a while; watching random TV shows with Frankie, kissing, talking and wrestling Puppy. The mental exhaustion, the anger, the blame and the fear were alive, only hidden for Frank, for us. I handled it well until the cartoon we'd been watching ended. The News was next, but we were both too entangled and entertained to care about the whereabouts of the remote control. They didn't announce anything tragic, or big. It's not that they mentioned the name of someone I knew. No, just the normal everyday News resumé which included a comment on the imminent rise in price of medicaments. Maybe they didn't mean _all_ of them, it hadn't been specified, anyway it resuscitated my worries. Even without a rise, Frank's meds were expensive. Anthony was helping as much as possible, contributing with half the amount or sometimes more; but if I lost my job we'd be in trouble. Tony's wasn't stable. There were months when no one would need his web designing abilities. Not to mention the little money they usually got from playing with the band. What now?  


"Wh-why you stopped k-kissing me?" Frankie protested.  


"Oh I was...listening."  


"T-to what?"  


"Nothing, just the news."  


"B-booooring!" he chanted.

I tried, I really tried but I couldn't stop my accelerated thoughts. They had taken over all my senses. I was measuring possibilities, consequences, solutions; all without any certitude. I hadn't been fired yet, but what were the chances of avoiding it?  


Frankie was drawing, having gotten tired of my lack of response. He wasn't angry, he had kissed me and said he'd stay quiet so I would be able to think. I wasn't being the best conversationalist and I wouldn't until I sorted my preoccupations out, so I thanked him and told him I was sorry.  


We hadn't talked for more than half an hour and my thinking hadn't taken me to any good port. I was on the verge of tears. Nervous, edgy, aching for a drink. I heard Frankie speaking but I couldn't snap out. I heard him closer and closer and it was hard to separate his voice from my thoughts.  


"G-gee...Gerard! G-GEE!" The tug at my arm brought me back _too_ abruptly.  


"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?" I blew up. Right after I sunk deeply into a sea of guilt. The aggression and volume I had put into that phrase were destined to release my frustration. Frankie had nothing to do with it. He meant the opposite to those feelings and I had hurt him, scared him. I had screamed at him for no reason.

There he was pale and shaky, standing still in the middle of the living room; holding a piece of paper to his chest and crying.  


"Oh God, Frankie I'm sorry..."  


"I...I didn't d-do anything b-bad I...I was g-good..." he sobbed. I came near him and he flinched.  


"Baby please, I'd never hurt you! Of course you were good, you're _always_ good. I...I just have some problems right now, I'm too nervous. When you touched me I was distracted and reacted bad, but I didn't mean it. I'm not angry at you, _never_ at you, love."  


"I d-don't like when p-people scream at m-me."  


"I know, I'm sorry. Come sit with me." I took his hand and he allowed me to guide him.  


"W-was gonna sh-show you this. Th-the gnomes didn't w-want and I did the s-same and...d-didn't care if they g-got angry. T-told them it was f-for you 'cause...'c-cause you're s-sad. B-but you got angry 'c-cause I'm an-annoying...."  


"You're not annoying."  


"Y-yes I am and you're an-angry...sorry."  


I felt like a monster. For different reasons than what some people thought but I was _still_ a monster. "No, I'm _not_ angry! Can I see what you did? I'm sure your friends will understand." I extended my hand. .  


"K-kay..." Frankie gave me the drawing and timidly kissed my cheek. 

He awaited, unsure whether he had done the right thing. My lips pressed to his put his mind at ease and he relaxed as I observed his work and met the gnomes for the first time. Vibrant colors, happy faces; the six all very similar but different at the same time, like he wanted to show their individual personalities. And they were dancing, for me.  


I felt better while holding Frank. He told me stories about gnomes, fairies, talking animals and walking plants. I let him take me to his innocent, problem-free world. If he -who had been through so much in his life- could leave it all behind to enjoy this fantasy land that resided inside of his head, why couldn't I? It helped _him_ , at least. He had forgotten about my outburst and was smiling and giggling and caressing my hair as he spoke. I could use some of that magic.

When he fell asleep I fell back to earth. It normally wasn't a problem, but this day it was. I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts, my cravings.

I called Anthony. The Homeless Souls were playing early that night, so he didn't have much time before the show started. The same he listened to me as I told him what had happened, my fears and worries. I didn't mention how I'd been needing to drink; I had never confessed my problem to him, fearing that he wouldn't like me as his son's boyfriend anymore.  


Tony encouraged me to wait before despairing. Even if things resulted wrong, he reminded me that now that Frank existed legally, we could try and get his meds for free. I didn't like that idea, not as long as Linda and her man were on the loose. I didn't want anything coming from the government until it felt safe.  


About my suspicions on who might have delated me he -like Ray- didn't think it had been the infamous couple. I wasn't that sure, though. What if they'd told someone else to do it?

Tony gave me a little more hope about my employment situation and said he would go talk to Sarah if necessary. However, I ended up dwelling even more upon my paranoia. That old sense of having our every move monitored returned.

I struggled to swallow some of the pizza we had ordered -I was too out of it to cook- and the soda I drank tasted like water. Insipid, weak, harmless. Not what I needed, not what could calm me. Everything around bothered me, I constantly felt like crying. 

Frankie was asking if I was fine over and over again and I was concentrating hard on not losing it. 

"G-gee...you're _not_ o-okay. I kn-know 'cause...y-you're not t-talking to me. Y-you always t-talk to me. Y-you're sick?" 

He didn't find it normal that I wasn't answering his famous questions about cartoons. Frankie always wanted to know everything that wasn't said, the part of the characters' lives that wasn't shown. He asked me what I thought they liked to eat, if they shit and whether their excrements smelled, why they always wore the same clothes and even if they made love. I usually answered it all, using my imagination and having fun with it. We would spend hours discussing the 'behind the scenes'.  


This night I couldn't, and Frank's worried face was the last thing I needed to make the doubtful decision I had been postponing. I would go for the only thing that could relax me, just enough to stop the tension.  


"Frankie...would you like an ice cream?" I asked him.  


"Y-YES!" he exclaimed, then froze and looked at me weirdly. "B-but Gee...it's too c-cold..."  


"Oh, we'll go buy some and bring it home. It's warm in here, isn't it?" I began to feel low for coming up with that just to go for my vice. But at least I wouldn't leave him home alone like I'd once done to buy cigarettes...  


"Y-yeah, you're r-right. B-but...it's n-night and kinda l-late," Frank objected. Without knowing, he seemed to be trying to keep me home. If only the need wasn't growing in me at exponential rates, maybe that could have stopped me.  


"We'll go to the supermarket around the corner, so we'll be back very quickly. I promise."  


"K-kay, then!" Right when he said that I faltered. 

I considered stepping back, but Frankie's eyes were sparkling at the thought of ice cream. Too late. Could I, perhaps, resist the temptation?  


"Go for your jacket and scarf, I don't want you to get a cold."

Once in the street and with Frank's gloved hand in mine I launched into a frenetic march, eyes looking forward. In fact, I didn't realise I was going too fast until Frankie complained. He couldn't keep up and I was nearly dragging him behind me. What the fuck was wrong with me?  


We arrived at our destination and headed to where the ice cream was served. It was like a parlor inside of the supermarket; cheap, though still good. I had my mind set on buying the ice cream, some groceries, and going back home. However, I had forgotten one tiny detail: the alcohol section was _very_ close, so close that I spotted it right away.  


While we were in line I tried to be strong, I tried but I couldn't. I'd break down and cry in the middle of the place if I didn't yield. 

"Frankie, would you stay here and buy the ice cream? You can ask for the biggest pot and choose any flavor you want."  


"I...I c-can pay and ev-everything?" he questioned with a gigantic grin. Frank never handled money. He didn't understand about it and it wasn't really necessary; he wouldn't go anywhere by himself.  


"Yep, here you have the exact money needed, so they don't have to give you any change, okay? I'll go buy some things and then come for you. Stay right here even if you're done."  


"K-kay!"  


I felt pathetic, running to reach my bottled relief. It was torture. So many bottles, cans. So many drinks, brands. I was in need of something strong, beer wouldn't do anything to me. Notwithstanding, I could by no means get drunk. Never with Frank. It was unacceptable, irresponsible, the worst thing to do.  


I took a deep breath and quickly grabbed one of those pocket-sized bottles. Whiskey. That way I wouldn't have much too drink even if I wanted, though luckily some sips would be enough. I hid it in the interior of my jacket, hoping they didn't have cameras. I wasn't going to steal it, yet I was acting as if.  


Shaking with nerves, I collected some other things we needed and went back to Frankie. He was being attended and didn't see me approach them. One of the girls had already given him the pot of ice cream when a second one appeared.  


"Are you alone?" she inquired. 

I waited to hear what Frankie would reply. "N-no, I'm with m-my...uh...b-brother but he's b-buying more th-things and then he'll c-come here for me. I'm n-nineteen and have m-money!"  


"We better wait for your brother," she stated.  


"B-but..."  


"It's fine, I'm here," I interposed. 

Frankie flashed me a smile and gave the girl the money. "S-see? W-wasn't lying!" He stuck out his tongue, making both girls laugh.  


"Frankie!" I reprimanded him.

"Oh, it's ok. I guess I ruined his independence, didn't I?" the one who had doubted Frank excused him.  


"Something like that, but he got to order before I was back, anyway."  


"You're so cute, Frankie," the first girl commented.  


"Th-thanks, bye!" He waved at them and we walked away.

As much as I hated doing it, at the checkout counter I had to distract Frankie once again. If he saw what I had bought there could be trouble, and that wasn't the best place for him to get furious. Therefore, I told him to pick up some sweets from the showcase beside us while I hurried to put the bottle on the conveyor belt first and shoved it at the bottom of a bag. The cashier surely suspected what all the fuss was about, but at that point I didn't care.  


By the time we got home I was desperate, lost. I couldn't even see clear. I brought two bowls and spoons to the coffee table together with the ice cream pot, which I opened after several attempts. 

"Baby, you start eating. I have some things to store and clean in the kitchen, I'll join you in a few minutes."  


"K-kay. H-hurry up or it'll m-melt!"  


"I will!"  


The kitchen had no door, which gave me an uneasy feeling. Still, I wasn't going to lock myself in the bedroom.  


Unable to cope with my restless state anymore, I introduced my hand into the bag to retrieve the small glass object; almost dropping it as my fingers failed me.  


The first sip burned my throat. I had gotten unused to it, I realised. It felt good, numbing my tongue and giving me what I'd been desiring. On the other hand, the fact that I had grown unaccustomed made something click in my stupid brain. "Fuck...why start again?" 

I shuffled to the table and deposited the bottle in front of me. I stood there staring at it, wanting it and and being repulsed by it at the same time. My body -or better said my mind- needed it. The idea of falling into it again repulsed me.  


I was hypnotized by the clear liquid, its taste still in my mouth, enticing me. I didn't hear anything, didn't see anything but felt something hit my ass hard, causing a sharp pain that was soon surpassed by the one I experienced when the impulse sent me forward and my crotch collided with the edge of the table.

"What the fuck?" I grabbed myself, doubled over.  


"TH-THAT...THAT'S AL-ALCO-HOL! TH-THE BOTTLE S-SAYS SO, IDIOT! Y-YOU SAID IT'S B-BAD AND...AND THAT YOU D-DO STUPID TH-THINGS WHEN YOU D-DRINK IT!" Frank looked intimidatingly angry. Plain infuriated. He must have read the label from over my shoulder and he'd consequently kicked my ass as he had once promised. I was thankful.  


"I...I know Frankie, I'm sorry. I'm too nervous and upset today, I tried to hold on but...couldn't. You stopped me in time, though. I only took a sip, I swear!"  


"S-STUPID, SO STUPID! I...I as-asked you why you w-were sad and you d-didn't want to t-tell me! I kn-know I don't un-understand things much but...b-but I'm your b-boyfriend and boyfriends l-listen and I love you and d-don't want you to be s-sad and...D-DON'T WANT YOU TO D-DRINK THIS SHIT!" Frank cried out. 

He took the bottle from the table, raising it over his head and throwing it to the floor with fury. One of my arms instantly encircled him and I led us away from the many pieces of glass that jumped and scattered around.  


"Thank you, baby," I whispered as he hid in my arms.

All of a sudden, Frank's head popped up. He got away from me and neared the small puddle of whiskey, smelling the air. His breath became hectic. He was murmuring something I couldn't understand, shaking his head and whimpering in an odd, heartbreaking manner. I tried to touch him but he screamed. He walked backwards until his back was against the counter; then he sunk to the floor, trembling, making noises that sounded like a puppy crying.  


"Frankie? Baby, what's wrong? I'm fine, I won't drink I promise, the bottle's broken!" I lifted a hand to touch his face and he put his arms up as a shield. "Frankie...it's me, Gee! I'm not gonna hurt you, you hear me? I won't touch you if you don't want to...please tell me why you're so scared..."  


"Th-the smell..." he mumbled. "...the b-baby. S-smelled like that wh-where he was."  


"The baby you dreamed of?"  


"Y-yes..." He began to sob now. "...p-people...music...l-loud...s-so loud and noise and v-voices and ev-everybody so t-tall and the k-kid so little and...and l-laughs and smell."  


"That was a dream, Frankie."  


"P-PLEASE TURN IT D-DOWN TURN IT D-DOWN...SHUT UP SH-SHUT UP AND L-LOOK AT THE BABY HE'S S-SCARED! TH-THE BABY W-WANTS HIS M-MOM! T-TURN IT DOWN SO TH-THEY HEAR HIM C-CRY!" he clamored and yowled; long, loud blood freezing screams. 

I wanted to hold him, but he wouldn't allow me at first. I ignored the kicks and punches and after a while I finally got him to calm down in my arms.  


"T-too loud, turn it d-down..."  


"There's no music, baby. No music and no people other than us, see?" I said, and he looked around. "That was a dream..."  


"N-no..." He rocked back and forth absently, whispering again. "N-no it's not...th-the little k-kid...YOU'RE W-WRONG, SHUT UP!!"  


"Frankie, _don't_. Don't listen to that voice, babe, look at me." I moved his face up, but his eyes were not seeing anything.  


"H-hey, Frankie...sh-shut up, Frank!" he muttered in a strange voice.  


"Frankie, please..." I sobbed, fearing his state. When he had those episodes I always feared losing him. I was terrified that his mind would slip away forever.  


I exhaled all the air I had been holding when his eyes focused and he glanced at me full of tears. "Th-the little kid's n-name's Frankie. R-remember...the m-music...smell. I...why so m-mean to poor F-frankie, Gee? I...I was a b-baby!" 


	71. Chapter 71

_Don't tell me it's not worth fighting for._   
_I can't help it, there's nothing I want more._   
_You know it's true,_   
_everything I do...I do it for you._

"I...I don't know, Frankie..." I didn't have an explanation. There was no justification for a woman who had neglected and mistreated her own infant. "...your mom was too young when she had you, and she maybe wasn't prepared to be a mother."  


"B-but then...why sh-she had me? If...if she d-didn't want a baby, th-then why? Or...she w-wanted a normal b-baby? It's th-that, Gee?" Frank cried as he looked into my eyes, blinking continuously. We believed he did that because he'd otherwise get double vision when so close.  


The way he struggled to keep his stare on me told me he was asking for the truth, he wanted me to be honest. I didn't have the _absolute_ truth, though. I had never met Linda, so I could only come up with a theory based upon the fragments of information I'd recollected throughout those months from people who did know her.

"It's a possibility, not everybody's good at dealing with special children. It doesn't mean they're bad people, they're just not...patient enough." I knew Linda's case was beyond that, but I wasn't going to be so cruel and direct. "There are also many girls who don't want babies and have them the same..."  


"H-how?" I had expected him to have more doubts. Since Frankie had always manifested his preference for boys, he'd probably never been informed about most things concerning girls.  


"If women don't want to get pregnant, they have to either take some pills to avoid that or tell their boyfriends to use a condom when they make love. There are other ways, but it's not really important for you to know them. Sometimes, couples forget to do those things...and babies come." The conversation was more complicated than a normal sex talk. There was something deeper and sadder involved. I needed to make it as simple as possible and be particularly delicate. He wasn't _any_ teen and we weren't discussing an easy subject.  


Frank had stopped crying and was pensive, trying hard to understand everything I was telling him. "Wh-why you used a c-condom when we m-made love? I...I'm not a g-girl! C-can't get p-pregnant, I kn-know that!"   


"Many gay couples use them the same, so if they have some illness they don't pass it to the other. Condoms are useful for that, too. In our case, I knew we were both healthy but..."  


"I...I'm n-not! I h-have an ill-ness!" he jumped. 

I smiled, kissing his head and bringing him closer to my chest. "Not _that_ kind of illness. I can't catch what you have. Schizophrenia's not a _physical_ illness, it's not like...a virus," I explicated.  


"Ahh! I kn-knew that, gu-guess Grace t-told me." He nodded. "But...b-but then you s-said 'bout the c-condom and thought that m-maybe you used it 'c-cause of me."  


"Oh, no! Since it was our first time I felt that it'd be better to use one. It was..." I had done it out of respect, but I couldn't think of a clear enough way to put it into words for Frank. "...cleaner?"  


"Y-you say...so your th-thingy wouldn't...uh...s-spit into m-my ass?" he asked with a straight face. 

Although it was rather hilarious, I held my laughter; it wasn't a bad answer after all. "Yes, something like that."  


"Ahh! G-good, 'cause it _is_ kinda w-weird. I r-remember..." Frankie frowned, shaking his head slightly to block the bad memories. So endearing; with his tear-stained face and his big reddened eyes pacing nervously. "And... _th-that_ happened to my m-mom? Sh-she and dad didn't w-want a baby but...f-forgot to do th-those things?"  


"Yes, I think it was like that. Anyway, your dad said he was very happy when he knew you'd be born. He's always loved you."  


"E-even when he kn-knew I was s-special?" he questioned.  


"Of course! Doesn't he love you now?"  


"Y-yes! B-but then why m-my mom didn't give me to h-him?" Again he was sobbing; at first rubbing his face with his palm, then closing his hand in a fist and hitting his head. "Wh-why why wh-why...F-FUCK!"

"Shh...no, don't do that." I changed our position on the floor so Frank's back was against me and I kept both his hands in mine. As usual he fought me -or his body did, wanting to continue with the auto-punishment. It was his natural reaction to stress, hurt, confusion. Like a tic, he couldn't control it.  


"Wh-why..." he repeated.  


"I wish I could answer that, Frankie, but I can't. I have no idea why your mother did things so wrong. Anthony would've loved having you with him. He told me that when you were a baby, he'd visit you every time your mom allowed him. Then...you know what happened when your dad had to travel," I reminded him of the lie we had made up for him -which wasn't exactly much nicer than the verity. Maybe one day he would be ready to learn how things had been for real.  


"Y-yes but...n-no...so so w-wrong...why? M-my _mom_! M-moms should be g-good like Donna and G-grace and...W-WRONG, GEE, WRONG!" He was in no condition to converse anymore. It was late and because of me he'd had a horrible day. "I...I w-was the baby. R-right, Gee?"  


"Yes...I think it was you, that dream you had was probably a memory from when you were a little kid and lived with your mom," I sadly assented, feeling the tears slide down my cheeks until they landed on Frank's hair.

"I d-don't remember her. N-no. D-didn't see her face in...in the d-dream. Wh-when I saw her b-before you found me...d-didn't know her. G-grace said she w-was my mom. B-but...ASSHOLE! Sh-she and the o-other people! I...I w-was scared...so l-little and...and all w-wet and couldn't w-walk and...t-tried to talk but they d-didn't understand. G-gnomes did! P-people didn't."  


"You already saw the gnomes back then?" I inquired.  


"I th-think...or they w-were mouses...y-yeah. G-gee it...it w-was so so s-scary and I was c-crying a lot and h-hungry and wet and they l-laughed and music...l-loud and she screamed and h-hit me. An-and I don't think an-anyone saved me like you s-said. N-no good girl. H-had to stay there till all en-ended and p-people left."  


"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, love. But don't think about it anymore, you're fine here and we all love you," I spoke in his ear and rocked us; the two of us crying on the cold floor of the whiskey reeking kitchen. "You know? I'm glad your mother didn't keep you. The places where you lived after she left you weren't great -specially the first one, but you'd have been worse with her."  


"S-so wrong..." he muttered, tired and aching inside."...I d-didn't do...n-nothing...not m-my fault if she...if she f-forgot things and had a b-baby! N-not...NOT MY F-FAULT THAT I'M N-NOT NORMAL!"  


"It's not, of course it's not. Now we're gonna go to sleep so you can calm down, ok? Wait here for a second." 

I left Frank reclined on the wall and rummaged through the cabinets, too distressed to recall where I had left what I needed. I found the packet of pills behind the pile of dishes. Since I had decided not to increase Frank's medication, Goldberg had given me sedatives to have at hand if needed. I wouldn't use them except it was _strictly_ necessary, and I considered this was one of those occasions.  


Frank shook his head when I offered him the candy. "N-no, I already t-took my pills."   


"This is not one of those, it's just something to help you feel better and sleep."  


"J-just tonight?"  


"Just tonight or whenever you need it, not every day like your meds."  


"K-kay then." He wiped his eyes and hiccuped before putting the candy in his mouth. I had to hold the glass for him to drink some juice, since he was shaking from head to toe. 

After that, I carried him to bed.  


"Y-you staying? D-don't leave!" he worried when I didn't change into my pajamas too.  


"I'll stay until you fall asleep, then I'll go clean the kitchen and be back." I couldn't let that smell impregnate it all any longer.  


"Y-you're not gonna d-drink?"  


"I won't, I promise. I don't have anything to drink, anyway. I'm not gonna lick the floor like a dog!" I joked as I held him in my arms, my experienced fingers tracing his scalp, arms and back in the correct soothing way.  


"P-puppy doesn't drink th-that shit," he said angrily. He wouldn't stop shaking and I was sure it wasn't from cold. His body was warm and I'd covered him with several blankets. "Wh-where's he?"  


"He must have gotten scared, let me see." I peeped under the bed and there he was, in his usual hideout, trembling nearly as much as his owner. They seemed to be connected.  


I picked up the dog and gave it to Frank, who shared his blanketed shelter with him. He stroked Puppy as I caressed him. As minutes went by, both kids were breathing evenly and soon they were fast asleep.

******  


For the first time in my life, while mopping the floor, the smell of alcohol made me gag. I had been scared that it could bring the temptation back once I got closer to the puddle. It was all the contrary. It only brought back images of everything that my almost-relapse had provoked: the memories that Frank was forced to relive, the past reality he'd had to accept. All because I was weak, stupid. I contrived a plan to buy that poison just when I had kept myself away from it long enough to be clean and safe. I'd never been a lost alcoholic -I was totally able to make it through without drinking, yet I had fooled Frank and bought that little bottle. I was going to drink it while he was unsuspectingly enjoying his ice cream. _Low_ , to say the least.  


However, though I was furious at my weakness and full of regret for what it had caused, I was pleased with some other details. I'd had the intention to stop right after the first sip, when I realised the strong liquid felt extraneous in my mouth and throat. I had still liked the sensation, but something was out of place. And mostly, I had loved having my ass kicked hard by Frank. Even within his particular, childish way of reacting he had been more mature and responsible than I was. He did the best that could be done to put my thoughts in order. He said what I needed to hear in the way that it would most efficiently penetrate my thick skull and embroiled brain. He had saved me from myself, once again and hopefully forever.

******  


By the next morning I had made up my mind: I needed some hours away to be able to figure myself out without damaging Frank any further. It was a hard decision to make, I was aware that he would want to stick to me after that complicated night; but he needed peace and I couldn't give him that at the moment.  


I was going to pay my old house a visit and spend the day with my mother. She didn't have to work until the night, which gave me enough time to spill everything to her. I would let her pamper me, I would listen to her selfless advices. We would talk for hours and I'd be able to voice all my thoughts. She wouldn't mind me bitching, screaming and throwing tantrums. I'd go back home at late afternoon, probably drained but divested of all this negativity. It was for the greater good.

"Ray, are you sure you can stay?" I asked him while feeding Frank his cereal. He had woken up when I did and insisted on getting up even thought he was rather absent.  


"Yes, no problem. I already talked to Bob, so in case my dad needs me before you're back....he'll replace me."  


"Okay..."  


"Gerard, don't think so much. It's a good idea, you need a motherly brain wash." He laughed.  


"W-wanna go see m-mom, too," Frankie mumbled.  


"I'll take you next weekend," I promised.  


"B-but you're going n-now...not f-fair."  


"Frankie, Gerard and Donna are gonna be talking the whole day, you'd get bored," Ray chimed in.  


"Ah, k-kay. B-but Gee...then you c-come back, will y-you?"  


"I'll be back before it's night and in a much better mood!" I kissed his sugared lips.  


"And...and th-then we make l-love," Frank demanded secretly. He had been more sexually needy those last days, though by 'making love' he never meant actually _having sex_. We hadn't done it again and I had no complains about it. I didn't miss having sex _at all_.  


"Then we make love," I murmured back.  


"I can hear you, you know?" Ray protested. "Not the kind of information I need at 8 in the morning...or ever."

Ray's POV

I was left with a static boy staring at me blankly. There wasn't much I could do when he was that groggy. I knew Frank had been very nervous the night before and Gerard had given him a sedative. Not wanting to touch the subject in front of him, my friend had been rather vague to me about what happened. I'd only deciphered that it was related to Frankie's mother. I hoped Gerard secrecy was only due to lack of time and privacy and he wasn't hiding something important from me again.

"You ok, Frankie?" I inquired, seeing his eyelids fall.  


"Y-yeah I'm...a l-little dizzy."  


"Hold on to my neck." I bended down and then lifted him from the chair. 

Frankie was certainly heavy, yet I was always careful to not mention it or let my face show the effort; I knew his weight was a delicate subject for him. I agreed with Gerard that Frank's mental health was far more important than his appearance, and he looked fine anyway. Not what I would call fat, just chubby. It wouldn't have been a problem at all if he didn't need to be carried that often. Sometimes he was dizzy, sometimes he was asleep. Other times he was too tired and lazy, and none of us dared say 'no' to those eyes. The boy deserved all the affection we could provide him.  


"I'll stay here with you and we'll watch TV until you feel better." I plopped on the couch beside him. I could use some leisure time.  


"K-kay, thanks." He placed his head on my lap so I'd brush his hair with my fingers as per usual.  


Having someone who was only a few years younger than me treat me like his uncle had been awkward in the beginning. Then I eventually learned to forget about his age. For moments Frank was just a little kid seeking comfort and protection, that was all I had to think of.

After a while, I noticed him looking at me instead of the TV. "Something wrong?"  


"R-ray...Gee's s-sad...'cause of his j-job," he expressed with shiny eyes.  


"He'll be alright. Sarah's going to forgive him, don't worry."  


"I kn-know but...b-but she has to f-forgive him _now_ 'c-cause...Gee's too s-sad and n-nervous and could d-do bad things. I d-don't want that!" There was something in his tone that made me suspicious.  


"Has he done anything bad?"  


"Uh..." He went silent, the confirmation I needed. Had Gerard been drinking? That's the fist thing that crossed my mind, though I wouldn't ask Frank. "N-no, no he d-didn't! N-no, nothing! B-but I wanna h-help him."  


"How would you help him?" I was always eager to hear his ideas. They could be surprisingly coherent or hilariously ridiculous, but interesting without exception. His imagination was three times more developed than ours.  


"T-take me s-somewhere...pretty please?" He was brief and to the point this time. Weren't we talking about helping Gerard, anyway? Frankie could easily disorient you with his changes of subject.  


"It'd have to be after lunch but..."  


"Y-yes that's f-fine but please, un-uncle!" He knew _so_ well how the 'uncle' and the praying hands could win me over.  


"Ok! But...care to tell me where you wanna go?"  


"T-to see Sarah." He smiled. 

If it was what I thought, I was going to be so moved that I would cry right there. I wasn't one to cry often, but Frank and his kindness touched my heart in such a way that it was unavoidable.  


"What for, kiddo?"  


"G-gotta talk to her, 'bout G-gerard. I...I'll be g-good, won't b-bitch. R-really!" He stared at me hopefully. I broke down. "R-rayyy...why you c-cry now?"  


"Nothing...you're just too nice, you know that? Of course we can go." He had helped Gerard many times before, so why not give it a try?

I wasn't completely convinced of consenting to Frank's request, mostly because I didn't have my car with me. Frankie was quiet and sluggish; his meds had hit him stronger and his stability wasn't the best. I suggested going the following day but he wouldn't have it. He swore that he felt fine and could walk as long as it was slow and not all rushed like Gerard had made him walk the night before. I asked where they'd gone, finding it odd that they had left the house at night. If it had been a date, Frankie would have told me about it all excited as soon as he saw me. But no, he said they went for ice cream and other stuff. I supposed it had been one of Frank's whims and Gerard just wanted to go back home quickly. His paranoia was striking again and he was permanently scared of being followed.

I was in no hurry, so I let Frank choose the pace. In spite of his urge to go, he took it easy. He shuffled most of the time, stopping by toy and candy stores and dragging me into a pet shop where he nearly cried together with three sad looking German Shepherd puppies. I caught him trying to open their cage and stopped him just in time before the shop's owner noticed.  


"B-but Ray...th-they don't like to be th-there!" he whined after I pulled him outside.  


"I understand, Frankie, but you can't just free them. We'd have to pay for them and they're expensive. They're also big when they grow up, you can't have them at home."  


"Wh-why pay? Th-they're not things, th-they're _alive_! Sh-shouldn't sell them. Sh-should give them to an-anyone who wants to l-love them. I d-didn't buy Puppy! H-he was waiting f-for us. Yep." His philosophy -expressed loudly and marked with pompous hand gestures- made too much sense sometimes.  


"Honestly, I agree with you...but others don't. You have to pay for breed dogs. Puppy isn't."  


"Wh-who cares?" He shrugged. "Th-that's all sh-shit."  


The rest of the walk was pretty much the same. Luckily the day wasn't that cold so it was nice to be outside, just strolling and commenting on things we saw. Once in a while people would stare at Frank and he'd smile widely at them. He didn't get a positive response in most of cases -sometimes even all the contrary, but whenever someone smiled back at him he'd beam. A smile meant acceptation and he was desperate for it.

******  


The store was full of people. As soon as Sarah saw us enter, she gave one of the boys some indications and came over us. She greeted me sweetly and then proceeded to give Frank a hug. He didn't withdraw nor did he hug back, just stood still in her arms. 

Perceiving his unresponsiveness, Sarah held him at arm's length and looked at him raising an eyebrow. "Are you okay, Frankie?"  


"He's a little...doped," I answered for him. To be honest I was somewhat scared of what Frank would do or say.  


"N-nope. A...a little _an-angry._ At y-you." He glared at the woman. I eyed her helplessly.  


I hadn't formed my own impression. Knowing how everything had happened, I did get Sarah's point of view and it was only logic that she'd need some time to process it all. If she had fired Gerard for being gay or openly called him a pervert -like Brad had- then it'd be a totally different situation and I would have been bitching at her.  


"Because of Gerard? Frankie, I..."  


"Y-you're gonna let him c-come back?" Frank cut her off.  


"I'm still not sure..." she stopped. "Let's do something: you go help the boys back there and I talk to...Ray, right?"  


"Yes, I'm Ray. But Frankie's the one who wanted to talk to you, Sarah."  


"I w-won't go _an-anywhere_! G-gerard's my boyfriend and I w-want to help him and I c-came now so he d-doesn't know. I'm g-gonna speak and...and you listen, k-kay? T-told you I'm an-angry!" Frank spat at her, intending to look brave and sound imperative; though he was trembling and his voice fluctuated revealing he was about to cry. I admired his strength and determination when it came to standing up for Gerard.  

Sarah was astounded, she had never seen this side of Frankie. "Ok, follow me." 

She guided us to a room behind the counter. It was a small kitchen with a square wooden table and two chairs in the middle. At the back, there was another door that presumably led to a bathroom. The walls were a pale orange-brown color. It felt warm, just like Sarah. Frankie took the seat she offered him and I stayed on my feet behind. Not waiting for an invitation to talk, he launched into his speech.  


"I...I kn-know why you g-got mad at G-gerard and you sh-shouldn't. Wh-when we met y-you, he had to l-lie 'cause...'cause he c-couldn't tell anyone th-that he found me in the s-street. N-no. If...if the p-police knew they were g-gonna take me a-away. Th-that was no g-good! G-gee's very n-nice and I wanted to s-stay with him. S-so he lied but...we w-weren't boyfriends f-first. I w-wanted but he said we c-couldn't and we d-didn't do any b-boyfriend things, p-promise! Th-then I began to take m-my meds and...we f-fell in love and...he s-said now we c-could be boyf-friends but not tell an-anyone 'cause..." A sob escaped him and he grabbed his head annoyed. 

Sarah abided by Frank's requirements and listened thoughtfully with waterlogged eyes.  


I rubbed Frank's back comfortingly. "It's ok, don't try to speak faster, take your time. Are you ok?"  


"Y-yes, what...wh-what I was s-saying?" he asked himself. "Ah! Th-that we couldn't tell ev-everybody that we were b-boyfriends 'cause I'm special and...p-people think it's wr-wrong if normal people have a s-special boyfriend. S-so so stupid! B-but it's like th-that and when p-people know they get an-angry at Gerard...l-like you. H-he..he's good and n-nice and loves me! An-and I love him and I kn-know how...uh...how's when th-things are wrong. Kn-know it's wrong if s-someone makes you do b-boyfriend things and you don't w-want to. G-gerard's not like th-that! H-he's not! I l-like everything we d-do and he always as-asks me if I'm f-fine and takes c-care of me and would _n-never_ hurt me. Wh-why no one b-believes it, uh? G-gee got mad at th-that boy Brad 'cause he w-was an ass- uh..." Frankie gave me a apologetic smile. "...he w-was _very_ mean and G-gerard's tired of m-mean people, it h-hurts him and m-makes him sad. W-we're in love, Sarah...please d-don't be angry at G-gerard. It...it's n-not his fault that I'm s-special and he l-loves me the same and my d-dad knows and he's h-happy! S-swear! W-want me to ask m-my dad to c-come? H-he'll tell you I d-didn't lie!"  


"It's not necessary, sweetheart," Sarah finally replied in a shaky whisper.  


"B-but please let G-gee come back? H-he's so sad and n-nervous and he n-needs to work so he c-can pay for my pills. Th-the pills m-make me better and if I d-don't take them I'm...I'm all m-messed up. Y-yeah. D-don't like it, p-please..."  


"Oh, Frankie...you're _really_ special, you know?" Sarah brushed Frank's hair with her fingers. "I don't say it because you're ill. You're special because you're sweet and kind, you care so much for the ones you love...there aren't many people like you in this world. That's a pity, the world would be a better place if there were many many Frankies."  


I was crying for the second time that day. Frankie, on the other hand, was wiping away his tears and giggling at Sarah's comment. 

"I've been thinking the same since I met him," I said.  


"Tell Gerard to come work tomorrow, you just spared me so much thinking, I..."  


"R-really?" Frank jumped off the chair and ran to hug Sarah as soon as she nodded. "Th-thank you thank you thank y-you thank you!"  


"Honestly, I don't think I could have fired him. There's only goodness in his eyes, and the way he talked about you...he really really loves you, Frankie. You're his life." She sat him on her lap, giving him some noisy old-aunt kisses.  


"I kn-know, and he's m-mine! I'm v-very very happy with h-him. N-never was _so_ h-happy. S-sometimes bad or sad th-things happen b-but...it's not t-too bad 'cause we're t-together and we can h-hug reeeally tight and we f-feel better. It's...l-like magic!"  


" _You_ are magic," Sarah asserted and I, incapable of talking, assented with my head.

When the three of us quit crying, she prepared hot chocolate and went for a third chair for me to sit down. Something had been on my mind for a while, but I couldn't let it out in front of Frankie. So once Sarah and I were done and Frank was still munching at the homemade cookies, I took the chance. I managed to communicate with her by signs that I needed to talk in private. I was hoping that she'd come up with a good excuse for Frankie. I couldn't think of anything.  


"Frankie...I'm gonna show Ray something Gerard told me he needed. You stay here and finish the cookies, all yours!"  


"Oh...k-kay. B-be back s-soon!"  


"We will, don't touch anything!" I instructed him.  


We went outside and closed the door, staying next to it just in case. I didn't trust Frank alone too much, not with a stove in the same room.

"See, Sarah...I can't explain everything well now, I'll tell Gerard to do it. To resume: Frank's mother is nothing good. She was the one who left him in the street and among other things she faked Frankie's death to steal the money his grandma left him. Gerard's had a lot of trouble related to her and her boyfriend...husband, whatever. He's even been menaced. Now the police are in the know and looking for them..."  


"Oh my God!" She covered her mouth with a hand. "That's terrible! How could she not love that kid? It's...impossible to understand."  


"I know..."  


"But why are you telling me this now?" she questioned.  


"Well, the police need all the information we can get to find them, and Gerard believes who called here could have been one of them or someone who works for them."  


"Oh..."  


"Do you know if it was a man or a woman?" I asked.  


"No, I should ask Brad. If you give me a minute I'll call him. I'll tell him to cooperate if he wants his job back!"  


"Thanks! Also ask him if he heard any noises in the background." 

I waited while she made the phone call, glad to hear that the guy was home. In case Gerard's suspicions were true, we needed to confirm it soon for the police to try and find the place from where the call was made before they moved again.  


"Done!" Sarah came back. "Ok, he said it was a woman. She sounded young and was speaking low and quickly. At first, all he could hear in the background was a TV. Then when she was about to say more, the voice of a man was heard. He apparently asked the woman what she was doing and screamed something about not using the phone. He called her stupid and they hung up. Really...if Brad had told me this from the beginning, I would have found it too weird to be trusted. Does it help, Ray?" 


	72. Chapter 72

_When there's love inside_   
_(I swear I'll always be strong)_   
_then there's a reason why._   
_(I'll prove to you we belong)_   
_I'll be the one that protects you_   
_from the wind and the rain,_   
_from the hurt and pain._

Still Ray's POV

"Actually, it sounds like it might be of great help!" I told Sarah, experiencing a mix of feelings. This information could bring Linda and her partner one step closer to prison. On the other hand, if she'd been the one to call, it repulsed me. Not satisfied with everything she had done to Frankie, she was determined to also ruin the life of the one person that had given her son what she denied him: a family, care, love. "Sarah, would you be willing to help the police?"  


"I...yes, I suppose there will be no problem..." I could see that it scared her. It was only expectable given what I'd told her about Gerard being menaced. "What would I have to do?"  


"Don't worry, probably just say what you just told me. Then they'll want to track all the phone calls made to this store around that specific time yesterday." I based my explanation on what I saw in movies, which made me laugh in my head; I was starting to think like Frankie.  


"Oh, ok then. Do I have to go to the police station?"  


"Uh...maybe you don't, let me try something." I took out my cellphone and searched the memory for the police's number. I was about to dial it when I remembered that Frank had been alone in the kitchen for a while. 

Sarah noticed the worried glance I threw towards the closed door. "I'll go check on him." She smiled.  


After a few failed attempts and being transferred from one officer to another, I was finally paid heed. I didn't get to talk to the chief, but the man they put on the line was at least in the know about the situation. I introduced myself and explicated more or less everything about the mysterious call. From the often pauses I inferred that the man was taking notes. Lastly, the officer asked where they could find the person who had received the call. 

Sarah had returned minutes ago -signaling that everything was fine with Frank, so I handed her my phone. "The officer wants to speak to you. I'll be there with Frankie." I gave the nervous old lady what I thought was a calming smile before heading for the kitchen.  


I frowned as soon as I stepped inside; the boy wasn't by the table. The only other possible place was the bathroom across the room, so I walked straight towards the closed door. It was when I casually moved my abundant hair back and my field of vision augmented that I discovered that Frankie _was_ in the kitchen, although not _sat_ on a chair. Instead, he stood on one which he'd placed below a small cupboard, completely still and with his eyes shut tight as if that could make him invisible. He didn't even seem to be breathing. At those moments it was hard not to see him as a little kid.

I picked him up with both my arms around his waist and he emitted a short, high pitched scream. After I left him on the floor he ran back to the table and avoided my eyes.  


"Frankie...what were you doing there?"  


"Uh...l-looking for more c-cookies?" He grinned mischievously, but the smile faded when I stayed serious. 

It wasn't easy to keep a straight face with Frank, he always tempted you to just forget and smile back. However some discipline was needed, and I knew Gerard was too soft for that. Of course we all had much more consideration for Frankie than you would for any regular naughty child. We were aware that he was not always fully conscious of his actions, but sometimes it was evident that he perfectly knew what he was doing; his guilty reactions once caught were the proof. I didn't want him to take advantage of his condition to do whatever he pleased and be forgiven, especially not in those cases that involved some kind of peril for him.  


"You know you're banned from stepping on chairs, tables, beds or anything you could fall from while alone. Today more than ever, since you admitted to feeling dizzy earlier."  


"Y-yeah but...b-but not now, p-promise!" He nodded.  


"That's not the point. It could have happened again while you were up there and then what? You just _can't_ step on things, no excuses," I stated firmly.

If my parents had seen me, they would have said I was prepared to be a father. Maybe I was, thanks to Frank. Not that I was thinking of becoming one yet, anyhow. To start with, I was lacking someone to be the mother. I had never been lucky with girls and my averseness to go out didn't help. I was beginning to consider Bob's offer to join him on his weekend night escapades.

"B-but Ray...I w-want more c-cookies!" Frankie whined, bringing me back from my self pity.  


"You had enough, don't you think?"  


"N-no I didn't!"  


"Frankie..." I pointed at the empty ceramic plate over the table. The total absence of crumbs told me he'd taken care of that too.  


"Y-yes but...few m-more? P-please tell Sarah?"

"No. And don't start with the 'you're a meanie' speech because you know it's not that," I went on with my fatherly rant. 

Surprisingly, Frank didn't retort; nor did he complain or insist. He got up with his head hanging low, padded to me and hugged me. "I...I kn-know. S-sorry, Ray, d-don't be mad." He raised his eyes and I knew it wasn't another one of his persuasion tactics. He felt sincerely regretful and understood I had been telling him all that for his own good.  


"I'm not mad, just be more careful, ok? If you need something you can't reach you tell us."  


"K-kay," he whispered.  


"Anyway...you know you ate enough cookies, don't you?"  


"Gu-guess, but they're y-yummy."  


"I have to agree with that!" I laughed. The two I had managed to snatch before Frankie attacked were, in fact, delicious. "Let's see if Sarah's still busy."

 Back at the store we found the woman talking to some customers. I waited until they left and then approached her while Frankie got distracted with some huge sets of pencils.  


"Oh, Ray! I heard you two talking so I decided to wait outside. Here's your phone. The officer said they'll call Gerard or Frank's father if they find out something," she informed me.  


"Thanks a lot, Sarah, really...for everything."  


"Please, let me know how it all goes." She turned to assist a middle-aged lady.  


"We will," I assured her. "Frankie, come on. Gerard's gonna be back soon so we gotta go."  


"C-can I have th-these?" He had one of the boxes he'd been admiring in his hand, beaming with hope. It contained at least 60 color pencils and when I read the price on the shelf I nearly chocked.  


"It's too expensive...I'm sorry, boy."  


"Oh...k-kay. M-money sucks," he grunted, restoring the unattainable item to where it belonged. 

I gave him some time to say goodbye to Sarah and we hastened away.  


Just when we were exiting the place, we ran into a family. The perfect happy family image. I intended to go on, but Frank was staring at them petrified. The tall, young man held the door open for his wife, a radiant blond girl with a toddler in her arms. The little kid -long, black fringe and round, brown eyes- was playing with his mother's hair; laughing that weird, kind of mechanical laugh small children have while she cooed sweet words to him and pretended to eat his nose. 

As we watched them through the glass door, the child spied us from over the woman's shoulder and smiled widely at Frankie, whose lips slowly curved up too. He waved and the younger one responded by raising a diminutive hand and flexing his stubby fingers.  


"Ready to go?" I asked Frank.  


"Y-yeah..."  


"Are you ok?" I inquired. He didn't answer.  


Our way back took even longer, although for different reasons. Frankie didn't stop to stare at the shops' windows. He didn't make a single comment or say a word. He wasn't there at all; each foot asking the other for permission to move and eyes locked on the people passing us by. When his point of attention coincided with my side of the sidewalk, I discerned two lonely tears sliding evenly across pale cheeks. He didn't wipe them away, he presumably didn't know they were there.  


"Frankie, what...?" 

I didn't finish the question. My voice directed to him and my concerned look was all he needed to bring his caged emotions to the surface. He began to cry, anguished sobs ripped out of an already hoarse throat. Arms squeezing my waist for dear life. "M-my mom never l-loved me. N-never, Ray, never. D-didn't want to h-have me and...and then l-liked me even less 'c-cause I was s-special. D-didn't care, didn't k-kiss me or hug m-me or...or n-nothing. Sh-she screamed and h-hit me and then l-left me and d-didn't let my dad h-have me and...d-didn't love me. N-no, never. N-not fair. Y-you know the d-dream I had?"  


"Yes..."  


"Th-the little k-kid was me. I...I kn-know now, R-ray!"  


"Oh, God..." I was starting to figure some things out. "That's why Gerard said you didn't feel well last night and he had to give you something to help you sleep?"  


"Y-yes...I r-remembered...I kn-knew when Gee...h-he...some-thing happened and I kn-knew. An-and we t-talked and he ex-plained. N-not fair..." He sniffed. 

There were still some fuzzy details that I needed to collate with Gerard. Something had triggered Frank's memories, something more had occurred that previous night.  


"I know it must hurt a lot, Frankie. But you need to try and forget those bad memories. That woman is not worth you crying for her. She lost more than you because I'm sure you'd have been a great son. You _are_ a great son to Anthony. There's also your mom Donna who loves you a lot and...a boyfriend that's going to be home soon and will be very happy with the good news you have for him!" I did my best to make him feel better, though I didn't exactly know how.

If we talked about reprimanding Frank, I was most probably better at it than Gerard; but I couldn't even remotely compare to my friend when it came to consoling him. It broke my heart to see Frank suffer. It saddened me and scared me. Those situations annulled my senses and turned thinking into a difficult task for me. I was afraid of saying the wrong words and making it all worse. I just wanted him to stop crying. Soon.  


In spite of my discomfort, I must have done something right. Frank's face snapped up and the shade of pain in his eyes was replaced with sparks of expectation. "Oh...y-yeah, we have t-to go! G-gee's gonna be w-worried if he c-comes home and we're not th-there! An-and I have to tell h-him 'bout his j-job!" 

From that moment on, Frank wasn't the sluggish one anymore. He took the lead and hurried me along the few remaining blocks.  


  
Gerard's POV

Going to my mother's had been the right decision. I now felt completely exhausted and my face was swollen from so much crying, but that plum-heavy weight had been lifted off my chest. I hadn't told my mom about my last flirtation with alcohol. Hadn't clarified what it was that evoked Frank's memories. However, when I cried cocooned into her embrace, I cried for everything. My fear, my guilt, my anger against society. I let it all go. My mother allowed my verbose vomit to follow its course, without interrupting me. Only when I had nothing left to say she spoke. And it worked. The success didn't lie in what she said, but in _how_ she said it. I'd heard almost identical words coming from Ray and Anthony and yet it wasn't the same. Advice dug deeper when it was my mother giving it. I did not only _listen_ to it. My brain actually _incorporated_ it. I left my old house feeling hopeful and a lot more positive.

******  


I was welcomed by a Frankie-tackle. We didn't reach the floor only because Ray seemed to foresee my boyfriend's maneuvering and stopped my imminent backwards fall. After kissing enough to make up for my hours away from home, Frankie stepped away and began to jump and applaud in his spot. That could mean that he had some kind of request, wanted to tell me some news or show me something he had made. Whatever the case, he looked happy and excited. I raised my eyebrows curiously and he grinned, glancing at Ray sideways.  


"Frankie has something important to tell you. I'd ask you how you're feeling but...I know you'll be alright after listening to your boyfriend, anyway," Toro anticipated.  


"What is it?" I almost dropped the 'you're not pregnant, aren't you?' joke, but realised just in time that it wouldn't be funny in the slightest after our last conversations.  


"Y-YOU CAN GO B-BACK TO WORK! S-SARAH FOR-GIVED YOU!"  


" _Forgave_ ," Ray corrected him.  


"Ah, y-yeah...SHE F-FORGAVE YOU, GEE!" Frank screamed again. 

I'd been left stunned. "Wh-what...when?"  


"Tomorrow!" Ray simply replied.  


"But how...did she call?"  


"Nope."  


"You called her? Don't tell me you..."  


"No, Gerard, I didn't call her!"  


"Then how do you know?" I couldn't think of any other option.  


"W-we went to s-see her and I t-talked to her!" Frankie filled me in. 

They had done what? I instantly looked at Ray with deliberate accusativeness. I wasn't mad. I just felt bad that the people around me had to clean after my messes.  


"It was Frankie's idea, I just took him," Ray fended for himself.  


"Y-yep! I s-spoke a lot! Ex-explained everything and sh-she understood."  


"What did you tell her, Frankie?"  


"All th-the truth." 

He didn't feel the need to develop his answer. He knew that I knew what that meant. I didn't have more to ask. I had gotten my job back thanks to Frankie and that was all that mattered.

"S-sarah said I'm m-magic!"  


"You _so_ are! And you're so much braver than I am! Thank you thank you thank you!" I grabbed him with my arms around his back and covered his face with kisses. "What would I do without you, my lucky leprechaun?"  


"B-be bored! B-but don't w-worry 'cause I'll n-never never l-leave you!"  


"You better not!"

"Oh, Gerard...sorry to interrupt all the cheesiness," Ray chuckled. He always said that on purpose to annoy me, though it had stopped working. "but I have to leave in a while. I wanted to tell you that Sarah also talked to the police about the person who made the call because...I think you were right."  


"What?" I flinched. My mother had made me discard that theory...and now this? "Frankie love, you think you can go for the jar of juice and three glasses and bring them here?"  


"Y-yes!" He was always willing to help, even if it wasn't anything big. I needed some minutes alone with Ray and that sounded like a good excuse to get Frank out of the room.  


"Ok...wait! Look for the tray first in the lower cupboard. The plastic glasses are somewhere there too. _Don't_ step on any chair, everything's within your reach."  


"K-kay!"

"Now Ray...quickly!" I urged him to talk. It would take Frank some good minutes to find the glasses, since only the one he used daily was in sight. Nonetheless we didn't have long.  


"Okay. Sarah talked to Brad and made him tell her everything about the call. No time for details but I'm 99 percent sure it was Linda. Yes, she was stupid and from what Brad heard the guy with her wasn't happy with it. So I called the police, Sarah told them everything and they're gonna track the calls and let you or Tony know if they find them."  


"Oh...okay. Fuck, that damn whore! Why...?"  


"Your turn: what happened last night? Frankie told me what he remembered about his past but I know there's more and it has to do with you. Talk, fast," he pressed. Trust Ray to know it all. 

I didn't have time to think of a lie. "I was too nervous, couldn't take it. We went for ice cream and I bought alcohol. Frankie saw me right away. He kicked my ass -literally, bitched at me and broke the bottle against the floor. Then the smell of whiskey brought Frank's memories back. Please...don't tell anyone, I'm sure that after last night I won't touch alcohol ever again. What's more, it made me sick while I was cleaning it up."  


"Oh my God!" Ray exclaimed. "He _kicked your ass_?"  


"Yeah, hard!"  


"We'll talk properly about this in another moment but right now...just let me laugh." Ray laughed indeed, loudly and grabbing his belly while he rolled on the couch. 

Frankie came back with the tray and just stood there observing him. "Wh-why's he l-laughing?"  


"Dunno, babe, he must have remembered a joke," I made up.

******  


Later after dinner, while I was washing the dishes, I thought of how different everything was from the previous day. Twenty four hours ago I had been drowning in my fears, having the most pessimistic thoughts. Yet, the facts kept demonstrating that no matter how much trouble my life choices got me into, things would always work themselves out somehow. Someone who didn't know our case from the inside would say Frank had complicated my life. _Wrong_ , he had made it interesting. Unscrupulous people and close-minded idiots complicated my life, _our_ life. If anything, Frankie was the one who solved it. He had this exceptional power to make people see, believe, understand what in my words would fall on deaf ears. He was gifted beyond belief.  


I was still worried about what could come out of that phone call and the police's intervention. How would those two respond to feeling with their backs against the wall? Although maybe they wouldn't do anything. Retaliating would mean exposing themselves all the more. Linda had screwed up enough, so there was a possibility that we were safe.  


******  


Frank's commanding voice was coming from the floor in front of the couch when I went back to the living room. I had left him watching TV, but now he was debating with some of his imaginary friends while Puppy barked at him for attention. 

Frankie picked him up and hushed him. "I...I'm t-talking, Puppy! D-don't you see th-that they don't un-understand?" He extended his free arm and pointed towards the corridor, his grave face aiming at the coffee table. "OUT! N-NOW, ALL OF Y-YOU! N-no, you can't w-watch! G-go and find g-girlfriends or...or b-boyfriends! N-no, I'll tell you wh-when you can come b-back."  


"Frankie?" I'd formed an idea in my mind of what all that could be about, and I was trying not to laugh.  


"W-wait..." He didn't look at me, just projected his palm forward as an indication. "O-out, out out...n-now! N-no, now, he's h-here! Jeez! At...at l-last!"  


"They left?"  


"Yes!" He smirked. "P-puppy...go to the r-room and sleep, too l-late for b-babies!"  


"Oh, wow...you have him well trained, babe!" I was amazed at the dog's obedience. Frank was, again, staring at me with that smirk. I decided to play oblivious and ask, "Why did you tell everybody to leave?"  


"'C-cause...you p-promised something." He crawled to me and whispered, "W-wanna make l-love and they c-can't watch..."  


"Oh, yeah?"  


"Y-yeah..." 

Frankie gently pushed me so I was lying down and he crept up on me giggling. Our mouths -temptingly proximate- didn't fight the so well known attraction; slowly, unhurriedly. Soon our tongues left all hesitance behind and our hands caught up with the rhythm. It was all calm, waltz-paced.  


It was rarely hasty between us. We wouldn't just get horny and take all of our clothes off. We let our emotions and feelings guide us and every step was performed when we felt it was time. Sometimes we would stay with our clothes on -not minding if we made a mess out of them, because it didn't feel right to interrupt the flow of sensations.  


This time our slow dance of lips and hands wasn't even heated; only tender, love-reassuring, healing. Our bodies were satisfied with what they were getting and, now side by side, they didn't search for more. 

With his head laid on the armrest and eyes red and sleepy, Frankie looked at me and sighed. "Y-you know? Th-think my thingy d-doesn't want to m-make love now."  


"Oh, good! Because mine agrees." We were tired and drained. Our bodies had spoken and our minds finally took notice of that.  


"C-can we watch a m-movie?" he pleaded.  


"Well...if it's not too long, 'cause I have to work tomorrow." I sensed myself grinning upon saying that, I didn't even mind getting up early. "What do you wanna watch?"  


"Uh...l-let's see..." Frank got up lazily and rummaged through our collection of -mostly children- DVDs. He suddenly smiled and showed me one. "L-little Mermaid?  


 "Good choice! Put it on and come back here," I beckoned him. "I'm cold without you." 

We were reanimated for a while, reciting the dialogs by heart and singing along to the songs; but tiredness eventually struck back and knocked Frank out. Not wanting dawn to find us on the couch, I carried him to bed. I wasn't going to be late for work after Sarah gave me a second chance.

******  


In the morning I was nervous, unsure of how to act in front of Sarah. What to say, how to look at her. Was she thoroughly convinced that there was no perversion behind my relationship with Frankie? Had she truly forgiven me or was she doing this for him? I revealed those thoughts to Ray and he gave me the simplest, yet most effective answer: 'It doesn't matter what she's thinking. You have nothing to hide or be ashamed of, so act according to that'.  


Things weren't so bad, anyway. Sarah rushed to me looking genuinely pleased to see me. She apologized for making me feel judged and commented on how moving it had been to hear Frankie advocate for me and what we had. She told me that she'd had a conversation with Brad and he would not bother me anymore. I wasn't that certain about it, but I didn't care.  


The woman wouldn't stop saying she was sorry, so I asked her to please forget about it. I wanted things between us to be like they used to. Sarah was a very particular boss and I didn't want that to change. She thought it was a good idea, and I promised to tell her everything about Frank's story soon.  


My working day went by normally and normality never felt so good. I happily fulfilled my duties, avoiding Brad and other coworkers' weird looks. That fucker had possibly been gossiping around. It enraged me, but I wouldn't summon forth problems. I wasn't there to make friends, after all. I had my good ones.

******  


The sight that awaited me when I left the store made me laugh, and not because it was funny. It was beautiful, one of those moments when you laughed out of happiness. At the door stood Anthony, Greg, and in between them Frankie. He was sitting on a purple, medium-sized bicycle wearing a matching helmet; the ones that only cover the head and are fastened under the chin with a strap. The bike had two little wheels attached to the regular rear one's axle. 

Frank's face was luminous. There seemed to be light coming off him. "H-hello! L-like it?" He smiled with all his teeth.  


"I love it!" I pecked his lips. "And you look very very handsome...and cute!"  


"He didn't want to wear the helmet, but I told him it was the condition to have the gift. The bike's considerably bigger than the ones for little kids, so I'm afraid it could get knocked over even with the extra wheels. Just in case I prefer his head to be shielded," Tony expressed. "Oh, and I hope you don't mind that I went ahead and bought it. We don't have any shows to play until the weekend, and when you told me things were back to normal I had a sudden need to buy the bike today. Ray said I looked as excited as Frankie...or more."  


"No problem. And I agree with Ray, you're like...talking non-stop!"  


"You should have heard him when we went to buy it," Greg mocked him, proceeding to imitate his boyfriend's monologue about what color, size and model they should get.  


"Oh stop it, I'm just happy! Wasn't it worth it?"  


"Totally worth it! Look at this face..." I pinched Frank's cheeks, making him complain and giggle at the same time.  


Anthony and I wanted to get Frankie a bike for his birthday, but we didn't have enough money back then; so we had decided to wait some more weeks. Tony knew about Frank's nightmares and that he had realised it was all real and part of his past. I guessed he correctly thought that buying the bicycle now would help distract his son. I only regretted not having been there to see Frankie's face when he first saw it.

"G-gee, we have to g-go to the p-park! D-dad called Mel's dad so sh-she'll take her b-bike too! M-maybe she can t-teach me how to r-ride it without the l-little wheels?"  


"Frankie," Greg spoke. "we told you it's not safe for you..."  


"B-but I want to so I c-can go faster!"  


"Maybe in the future. For the time being you better ride it like this 'cause I don't want you getting hurt, okay?" I said. 

I imagined that our over-protectiveness must annoy him, but we couldn't help it. Frank had enough to deal with and we wanted to spare him any other complication. Besides, I didn't think he'd be able to control a bike; and trying might result in him falling over and over and getting frustrated. He could also break his glasses and cut himself with them. There was a lot to consider.  


"K-kay, you're all s-so boooring," he protested, hitting the vehicle's red horn and pedaling away. "M-move, turtles!"

At the park, we sat on a bench with Mel's father -Henry- while the two kids rode their bikes around the path that surrounded the playground. The girl was an expert, even though the red bike she sported was bigger than her. Nevertheless she refrained from accelerating so she and Frank would go side by side. Frankie had wanted to try Mel's bicycle, but the child cut him off with a very firm: 'No, you'd fall. You're my friend and I like you better in one piece. You have yours.' Frank didn't insist.

Mel was pretty mature for her age, which I thought was the reason why she and Frankie got along so well. It was like their mentalities met somewhere in between their chronological ages. She was very protective of Frankie and didn't doubt to confront anyone who dare make fun of him. No matter the age or size.

"Dad!" Mel addressed the man as she and Frank stopped to drink some soda. "You know? Frankie has a crush on the same actors as me!"  


"Oh, now you'll have more to buzz about, then! I'm surprised it took you so long to touch that subject, you're _always_ talking about handsome actors at home," Henry joked. 

Frank had told his friend that he liked boys soon after they met. She'd taken it with total naturalness and casually commented it with her dad who luckily, did not mind. What's more, something told me that the fact had helped put his mind at ease about his daughter's peculiar new friend. It was understandable that he would worry about the age difference. Even if childish, Frank _was_ a teenager -and a boy- while Mel was only a ten-year old girl. Knowing that he was gay somehow left Henry with one less worry. Of course, they didn't know that I was Frank's boyfriend. Not to risk their friendship, we'd told them I was his uncle and as far as I knew, Frankie hadn't disclosed the truth. They did know about Anthony and Greg, though.  


"Not true!" Mel argued. Her expression was so funny that Frankie spat the Sprite he was drinking. "I don't talk much about boys at all!"  


"You do..." her dad singsonged.  


"Don't be ashamed, Mel." Greg chuckled. "Frankie does the same. He also cuts pictures out of magazines and makes collages."  


"Sh-shut up, no!" Frank blushed, casting his dirty hand over Greg's mouth.  


"It's true..." I added.  


"C-come on, Mel." He tugged at her sleeve. "W-we better go r-ride our bikes 'cause...th-they're all ass-holes."  


"You're sooo right!" They parted indignant and the four of us released our laughter.

"Oh, Gerard..." Anthony caught my attention. "...with all the trouble lately I forgot to tell you: I couldn't find any school for Frankie. I called a lot, but as I feared there are no vacancies in public schools until next year. Private ones are out of the question, at least for now. Who knows, maybe that will change soon..."  


"Oh, damn. I really hope so..." I trailed off. We could always enroll Frankie early the following year, but he was very eager to start as soon as possible.  


"My daughter told me that Frankie was gonna go to a special school," Mel's father participated. "I know how hard it can be to find a school once the term has already started. Mel lost a year because of that when my wife died and we had to move here. It must be even harder with special schools, since there aren't many to start with."  


Anthony assented. "Yeah, that's the thing, and I've been looking for something nearby so Frankie doesn't have to travel much. He doesn't want to be out of home for long."   


"Well, I understand, time with the family is always important for kids and they need it more than they need school."  


"Exactly. And let's be honest, Tony: we don't want Frankie out of home for long either! We'd miss him too much." I tried to hide the tone I knew my voice acquired when I talked about Frank; thinking of how I loved having him with me all the time and how I would miss him if he had to be out for longer than my working hours.  


******

We stayed in the park until night was near and the temperature began to decrease. Frankie had only fallen down once -when trying to force the bike to go faster- without any consequence other than a scraped elbow. He didn't mind.  


After a while he said he'd grown too tired, so he and Mel came sit with us to talk. Frank was sweaty and fatigued and it took him a couple of minutes to regain his breath, but he seemed to be perfectly fine; content with the new experience of having a life that got closer and closer to normal every day.  


That afternoon would have been perfect if we'd not had to hide anything. Still, it had been great. I knew that I would always have to make some concessions. Both of us, even if Frankie was also dying to scream our love to the wind. We could never know how people would react and I didn't want Frankie to be deprived of anything he liked because of it.  


The parting was long. Every time we were about to leave, Frankie and Mel had something else to say. Frank told her that he couldn't go to the park every day because he had things to do like practicing for school, so he'd be there in maybe three days. In reality, I knew -and his wink at me was further evidence- that by 'things to do' he meant that he wanted us to spend that time together. Alone. Not even the excitement for his new bike could top that. 

I felt tears gathering, applying pressure to my lachrymals, making my eyes sting. I had to turn my back on them.  


******  


Back at home Frank was so deadbeat that a lot of insistence -plus me promising to do all the job- had to be put into use to get him to shower. Any other day I would have allowed him to skip the bath, but this time he was undeniably dirty and smelly. Once done he dragged his feet to the room, planked himself into the bed and asked me to wake him up for dinner.  


I had finished putting my pajamas on and was going to the kitchen to cook when the phone rang. I ran to get it before Frankie could hear and start bitching at the mean person not letting him sleep.  


"Hello?" I whispered. There was the sound of water falling on the other side of the line.  


"Gerard...it's Greg. Look, I don't have much time. Anthony doesn't know I'm calling, I'm supposed to be taking a shower."  


"What...?"  


"First: the police called Tony's cell before we got home. They tracked Linda's call to a hotel in a town not too far away from here. They were not there, but their stuff still is -including fake IDs- so the cops have the place surrounded together with any possible escape route out of the city."  


"Oh, wow! Those are rather good news," I noted, feeling the end to our troubles get closer. "Why didn't Tony want you to tell me?"  


"Something else happened. When we arrived to our apartment someone had slid a note under the door. It was a message from Linda, telling Anthony that she wants to see him tomorrow to try and reach an agreement," he revealed. 

My heart stopped and I swallowed. "How can she...?"  


"That's not all...Anthony plans to go."


	73. Chapter 73

_Let's make it all for one and all for love._  
 _Let the one you hold be the one you want,_  
 _the one you need._  
 _'Cause when it's all for one it's one for all._  
 _When there's someone that should know_  
 _then just let your feelings show,_  
 _and make it all for one and all for love._

"What?!" I nearly screamed, slapping my mouth when I remembered that Frankie was sleeping. Was Anthony crazy? He intended to come to terms with that bitch? "Is he serious? He _really_ wants to discuss this with her?"  


"Oh no, no...he refused to tell me much about it, but I'm sure he only needs to see her again and demand some explanations. Or maybe he just wants to spit in her face, who knows?"  


"But...doesn't he realise it can be dangerous?" I questioned, exasperated.  


"I tried...wait..." Greg paused and I heard Anthony's voice asking if he could come in. "Just a minute, love! My mother called when I was about to get in the bathtub, I'll tell you when I'm done talking!"  


"He believed you?"  


"Yeah, I think so," Greg whispered. "I was telling you...I tried to make him reason, told him it could be a trap, but he's determined to do it. He dropped the subject, said I won't convince him so I'd better not waste my time."  


"Fuck...isn't he even gonna tell the police about it?"  


"Not sure. I'll wait until tomorrow when he's more calm -if that's possible- and then suggest it again. If he doesn't want to, I'll call the cops myself somehow and tell them to go a little later than the time Linda chose for the appointment," he said.  


"That's a good idea. At what time are they meeting?" I searched around for paper and a pen.  


"4:30 p.m. I'm supposed to drive him there and then leave. What are you...?"  


"Tell me the address," I cut him off. I was probably having another bad idea, but I felt like I ought to do something. I scrabbled the directions down together with the time and shoved the little piece of paper in my back pocket. Luckily I was acquainted with that neighborhood, since Laura and I used to go shopping there. "Ok, I know the area. You drive Tony and let him think that you're leaving..."  


"But...?"  


 "...but make your way back after a few blocks and park around the corner, close to a small McDonald's," I indicated. "I know you're not familiar with that town, but you'll see it right away. I'll meet you there."  


"Gerard, don't get involved, you should stay safe for Frankie."  


"I'm _already_ involved...and it's _for Frankie_ that I'm doing this, Greg. He needs his father too, they've lost enough years. So if there's something I can do for Anthony, even if it's just secretly having his back, I will," I explained. "Don't worry, I -we- are not going to do anything too risky, just...be near."  


"You sure?"  


"I'm sure, please be there and have the police informed." My voice was shaky; I was trying to be brave when in truth, it greatly scared me to think of everything that could go wrong.  


"Ok. See you tomorrow, then. And thank you for worrying so much."  


"You have nothing to thank me for, we're all in this. See you, Greg."

******

Having too much going on in my head to come up with an elaborate meal, I settled for noodles with butter. Frankie loved it, anyway. Once the water was at the point of boiling, I emptied the contents of a package of penne rigate into the casserole. As I kept a close look on it, stirring the noodles from time to time, I retrieved my cellphone and dialed Bob's number.

"G-man! What are you up to?"  


"Hi, Bob. A lot! When are you out of work tomorrow?" I inquired.  


"Uh...around 3:30, why? Is it finally the day?"  


"What are you talking about?" I got lost, which happened often with him. You never knew whether he was joking or saying something serious that you were meant to grasp the meaning of. "What day?"  


"The one when you invite me for an after-work drink?" He was definitely joking, was he?  


"Bob...when are you going to understand that..."  


"...you don't drink anymore. I got it. It was a joke, Gerard. It kinda amuses me to hear you get all indignant, though I'm actually proud of your will power." He chuckled. If he only knew how unstable my will power could be. "So what is it, then? Any other kind of fun? Want me to babysit?"  


"No, no babysitting. Though knowing you, you _might_ have some fun. I need you to come with me somewhere...as a spy."  


"A _what_?" Bob let out sharply. "Way, are you sure you haven't been drinking?"  


"I'm positive."  


"Who the fuck are we gonna spy on?"  


"Anthony...he's going to meet his ex tomorrow at 4:30, she sent him a note. I wanna be around just in case," I exposed. 

Bob grunted. "Oh fuck, that man's as nuts as you. What the fuck was he thinking when he accepted that? Why don't you call the police and be over with it?"  


"Greg will do that, even if Tony doesn't agree, but I still wanna be there. We wouldn't let them see us, don't worry. I'm just asking you so then you don't come telling me that 'I should have called you instead of going by myself'. Don't feel obliged, though." 

I knew that by calling Bob and telling him all this I was, in some way, compelling him to join me. He'd feel it like a moral obligation towards his incautious friend. It did nag at my conscience and I realised that I kept dragging the people I loved into my problems and senseless plans. Yet I had this hunch urging me to be there, and I honestly could use some support besides Greg's. Bob had the courage I might be lacking and on the other hand he could help me refrain from doing something too hazardous without lecturing me like Ray would.  


"Oh, my." Bob sighed. "Maybe Ray should adopt Frankie, he's the only sane one out of all of us."  


"You're implying that you're not sane either..." I remarked, surprised that we had both thought of Ray at the same time.  


"Well, I'm complying to your insane ideas, aren't I?"  


"Are you?"  


"Have any doubt?" I imagined him raising an eyebrow with that resigned expression and grinning right after.  


"Thank you. Really, Bob...thank you _so_ much. Everything's going to be alright, we'll just watch them afar."  


"You bet. Try getting any closer and I'll knock you out and carry you back home, understood?"  


"Yes, my captain! Pick me up at the store at 4. Can you borrow your dad's car? I'm afraid someone who is with Linda might recognize mine. I know, I'm too paranoid but..." I babbled.  


"I'll pick you up with my dad's car, rest assured. Good night, Gerard!"  


"Good night, Bob. Thanks again and sorry for bother..." My rambling was disrupted by the click. He'd hung up.  


I went back to my modest cuisine. I drained the noodles, added the slices of butter and mixed it; in the meantime pushing all troubled thoughts aside. Frank didn't have to notice anything.

******  


"Frankie...baby, diner's ready," I breathed into his hair. 

He shivered, lifted his heavy eyelids and whimpered. "H-hurtss!"  


"Where does it hurt?"  


"M-my legs," he groaned. His body wasn't used to exercising and he'd pedaled a lot for his first day.  


"I can give you some aspirins..."  


"N-NO!" he exclaimed.  


"Ok, no need to scream!" I kissed his lips as I saw him blush embarrassed. "I know you're sick and tired of pills, but we all have to take them sometimes."  


"S-sorry. I...d-don't want to."  


"Fine, but then don't complain about pain!" I told him playfully. "Come on, the food's gonna go cold."  


"T-take me? H-hurts..." His lower lip was sticking out and his eyes were big, shiny and begging. How could I say 'no' when I had been the one who spoiled him?  


"You know what to do, love." I bent down and waited for him to throw his arms around my neck. I grabbed him under the knees and lifted him, my other hand supporting his ass.  


Once sitting on his chair he inspected the casserole and smiled, then kept looking around the table and towards the stove. "J-just noodles?"

I handed him his dish. "Yes...I made enough. What else would you like?"  


"D-dunno...meat or s-something? P-please?"  


"Uh..." I would normally not give in to that kind of petition. That day, however, I considered Frankie had burnt a lot of calories and deserved a treat. Or maybe I just wanted to avoid any little quarrel for the night. "I'll make you a pre-cooked burger but you eat it on your plate, no bread."  


"Wh-why no bread, m-meany?"  


"Because that would be too much. No bread or no hamburger?" I presented the options.  


"K-kay, no bread but...ch-cheese on it?" he pleaded, swallowing a mouthful of noodles.  


"Okay...okay!"  


"Th-thank you! L-love you, you kn-know?" He startled me with a grateful lip-lock and a tender embrace. 

Some say you can win people's heart through food -though they mean _actual good cooking_. I didn't have to win Frank's, since it was already mine; but it surely got me some additional coddling.  


The night was cold, my nerves were killing me. Nevertheless, I didn't feel like drinking or even smoking. All I needed this time was Frankie.

******

Telling Ray about my plans was the worst -although needed- part. To be able to do what I wanted, I would have to ask him to stay with Frank longer than usual. I wasn't going to lie to him anymore, it wasn't fair. I had done it many times before and he had felt understandably disappointed when he later found out.  


I phoned him before going to sleep, after Frankie finally surrendered to taking a couple of aspirins and passed out on the couch. I didn't want to wait until the morning, when my and Ray's mood was never the best. It could result in an argument and I definitely didn't want to risk Frank overhearing us.  


Toro cursed me, Anthony, Greg and even Bob for backing me up. He said that we were out of our minds and should just let the police take charge of the situation and arrest Linda once and for all. I couldn't disagree; but if Greg -who was Anthony's partner- had opted for at least half-respecting his decision, it wasn't my rightful place to contradict him. Ray understood that, although it didn't lessen his concern. I restated that we were only going to be near and wouldn't make ourselves visible save it was of sheer necessity. What he responded made me rethink everything: what would we do if things got complicated? We weren't fighters -I, for a fact, wasn't. We didn't have any weapon and even if we did, carrying one could usually just automatically turn you into a bad guy in those cases.

Ray was right. I didn't know what I'd do if Tony got in trouble, I just hoped it would not happen. At that moment I felt like retreating, but it was too late. What's more, I would never forgive myself if it all went wrong for Tony and I wasn't there. Even if uselessly, I had to go. I would improvise. Ray eventually admitted defeat and told me that he would talk his father into permitting him to arrive later.

******  


That morning I couldn't let go of Frankie. I kept him on my lap all the time while we had breakfast, kissing and caressing him. Lastly, when we had finished, I remained glued to the chair; too wrapped up in our cuddle to get up and leave. I was exaggerating, overreacting to my fear. I seemed to be saying goodbye, seizing each good moment like I was going to war and didn't know if I'd be back. 

Frankie welcomed my effusiveness, though he sensed the weirdness in the air. Ray continued to give me the evil eye, hoping I would pick up the hint. I did, I knew I could easily step out of the danger; I just _didn't want to_. And even if my brain loved to torture me, my heart told me it would be okay.  


"Gerard, you don't have to..." Ray tried again. "They're grown-ups, they can manage the situation by themselves."  


"I wouldn't be that sure," I muttered.  


"G-gee...why you're c-coming home l-later?" Frankie protested. We were still clutched to each other.  


"I told you, babe. There's a lot of work at the store and I have to stay a couple more hours today. Just today."  


"B-but no! D-don't want to," he sniffed. "I...I'll m-miss you!"  


I kissed his tears. He was making it harder for me to leave, and it was my fault. My insecurity made him more sensitive. "I'll miss you too, but then we'll cuddle the whole night."   


"P-pleaseee!"  


"You won't even notice! Ray will surely find something fun for you to do, you'll see."  


"Wh-what if Ray h-has to go?" Frank posed.  


"He doesn't think he'll have to; but in the case his dad wanted him home, he'd leave you with the lady next door. You know...Kevin's mom? You stayed with her once..." I reminded him.  


"Y-yeah, she's n-nice. Sh-she had yummy c-cookies and...and a b-big dog." He smiled, seemingly calmer. It was the right time for parting.  


"Okay, then! If you go there just remember that she thinks you're my little brother."  


"Y-yeah, I know!"

I approached Ray and talked to him in a very low voice, having seen his constant frown. "Ray...stop worrying, man! Everything's gonna be alright, we'll be extra careful. This could be the end to all of our problems."  


"Let's hope..." He rolled his eyes.  


"It will. Thanks for everything, man. Frankie, come here and give me one last kiss. Big, so it'll last me till I'm back home!" I opened my arms for him and our lips gave in to the magnetic attraction.

As I headed for the door, I watched him wave at me with a grin. We needed to win that damn battle. Lock up the villains, recuperate what had been stolen from Frank -if at all feasible- and come back home to him, safely and unhurt. I liked to think of life like a tale sometimes. One of those fantasy stories that always end well.

******

The whole day at work was hell. I couldn't concentrate on what customers were telling me and I had to keep asking them to repeat their questions. Some didn't mind, but others got mad at me and I had to put all my self control into use to not flip. Instead I apologized, giving them the most sincere-looking smile I could manage. I wasn't that glad when my shift ended, anyhow. No, because what was coming next could be ten times worse.  


Bob was waiting for me, leaned against his father's old but trusty, blue Ford. I didn't get in the car immediately, though. We first entered the Cafe across the street and chose a table at the back. I didn't want the cappuccino that was soon placed in front of me, my throat was closed; yet I had thought it was better to order something so they would not object to me using their bathroom. 

That's when Bob knew just _how_ nervous I was. I'd normally never decline coffee.  


After he downed both cups, I disappeared into the bathroom with my string bag. As I had told my friend, I was afraid that the guys who had shot me or been following us months ago might be around. I had brought something that would serve as a disguise, so they wouldn't recognize me if they accidentally saw me. Nothing weird or spy-movie like, just clothes I wouldn't usually wear.  


I kept my jeans -which were black and discreet, replacing my long sleeved, gray t-shirt and black zip-up hoodie with a white buttoned shirt, a dark red tie and a black blazer. I tied my hair back in a pony tail and put some huge sunglasses on, staring at the image in the filthy mirror. I didn't look like myself. Exactly what I wanted, didn't I?

Bob giggled when I reappeared. "Oh...nice, mister Way!"   


"Shut up, not funny! Did you pay?"  


"Yeah."  


"Well, let's go or we'll be late." I walked out of the Cafe and back to the car, waiting impatiently for Bob to open the door.  


"Any accurate idea of where they'll meet?" he came up with another detail I hadn't pondered.  


"Greg mentioned something about the bus stop, then I have no idea. They'll want to go somewhere to talk..."  


"Is the hotel where Linda and that guy are staying on that same street?"  


"Nope, that's like more than fifteen blocks from there. The police have the hotel surrounded so I don't think they'd come any close. I'm trying to remember this street, now...you have some bars and restaurants and a small park on the other side. Where would you go if you were Linda or Anthony, Bob? Just in case we arrive after they did..." My derailed train of thought required some external assistance.  


"Uh...for any normal, civil conversation I'd choose a bar or a restaurant, probably the first option if I'm not that close to the person..." he began.  


"That would leave the restaurants out in this case..." I reasoned.  


"Yeah, I think so. The thing is: Linda will try to keep the talk civil and not call people's attention, but from what Greg told you Anthony doesn't have the same idea."  


"What do you mean?" I asked dumbly.  


"Tony is furious, he'll want to set up the conditions. He'll end up bitching and probably screaming at her, so a bar would be a bad idea. The park -if they find a convenient spot- might give them better privacy and freedom to say whatever they wish without that many potential hearers. And...it's still public enough for Anthony's safety. Yeah, I'd check the park first," Bob concluded. I admired his capacity to analyze a situation which such tranquility even under pressure and while driving. I could never do that. Thinking hard took up all of my brain functions most of times.

"Wow. That does make sense, Bob! You're awesome, man!"  


"That's Super Bob for you, mortal. So...here we are, where first?" Bob's last words killed my laugh. I had been listening to his aloud deliberations and nearly forgotten that it would be a very short trip.  


"The...the McDonald's two corners from here," I mumbled. 

I could see the van parked and as we got closer we were met by the sight of a very fidgety Greg pacing along the sidewalk. He greeted us and thanked us for being there.  


Right away I motioned for Bob's car, the idea of going in the van discarded for obvious reasons.  "Did you see Linda, Greg?"    


"No, she wasn't there yet, but Tony said he wanted to wait alone. He promised to call me if she didn't show up. I hope she doesn't...and if she does then I hope she's alone."  He sat on the backseat, his head hanging weakly. A tough, big man disarmed by preoccupation. "Oh...and Tony knows that I alerted the police, they'll be here in about 20 minutes. He asked for some time to talk to Linda first."  


"Tony agreed to call the police?"  


"Yes, he knows this is the perfect chance."  


"Some good news at last! Do you know where he and Linda will be?"  


"He intended to drag her to the park..." Greg said.  


"I knew it!" Bob cheered. "Ok, you Greg keep your head down. I'll drive slowly around the park and take a look. Once I see them we'll park far enough and make our way by foot."  


Anthony and Linda were walking towards a group of trees when Bob descried them. He kept on driving until we passed them by, then he turned left and came to a halt. We left the car and cautiously trotted through the park, moving along a line of huge trees to conceal our steps. 

Suddenly, my chest collided with Greg's back when he in turn walked into Bob after our blond guide detained his march.  


"Found them," Bob whispered. "I think it's safe to hide behind those bushes. We'll be able to hear and peep through the leaves but they won't see us from where they are."  


Greg placed a hand on Bob's shoulder. "Ok, hurry up."   


The first thing I thought of doing when we reached our hideout was to take in Linda's appearance, and I noticed Greg had the same intentions. Bob only gave them a quick glance before swifting his position. Someone had to watch our backs.

I crawled on the grass until I got a better view of the woman who had given birth to my boyfriend -the word 'mother' didn't fit her. The only similarities with Frank that I could find were her height and jaw line, maybe also her lips; though they were contracted with scorn and painted a fake red, which made it hard to tell. Her eyes seemed blue or green, meticulously retouched with black and browns but still sunken and lifeless. She was a beautiful woman and yet her face evidenced the years of self-abuse. She had lived too fast and gone after the wrong goals. No just-out-of-the-stylist, shiny, white-blond hair could fix that. Neither could her silicone breasts or manicured, bright pink nails. Not when you peered into her eyes and saw a 50 year-old woman instead of one who was only 36. Not when she looked more consumed than thin. Ironically, she dressed like a teenager. Denim mini skirt over black stockings and high boots. A low-cut, blue lycra shirt and a jean jacket with furry interior.  


I turned my attention to the conversation. I hadn't heard what she said, but Anthony didn't seem to like it. 

He shook his head and raised his open hands to stop her. "Listen, Linda. I don't give a fuck about your situation," he spat. "You had it coming so I don't care if you're in a rush or if you're afraid of being caught. If I accepted your invitation it was only for my own reasons and now you're going to hear me. Or better said I'm gonna hear _you_ , 'cause I came for answers."  


"What do you wanna know?" Her haughty tone made me want to go and punch her.  


"What do I wanna know? _What do I wanna know_ , you ask? FUCK YOU, LINDA!" Tony shouted. 

She brought the cigarette she was holding to her lips, unperturbed. "I can't read your thoughts, Tony, speak up."  


"It's _Anthony_ to you, whore. I realised that I never really knew that girl who used to call me Tony."  


"Speak, Iero. Told you I don't have time for this, I came for business."  


"My son and business are never going to be part of a same conversation for me," Anthony retorted. Linda only sighed impatiently. "Ok, since you seem to have amnesia I'll word the questions. Why did you do it? Why the fuck did you tell me Frank was dead when you _knew_ how much I loved him? I...I could have understood if you didn't want to raise him, but why abandon him when he had a father? Why lie to me like that? Why didn't you leave him with me from the beginning, bitch?"  


"Like you were any better than me...oh, _please_!" she interrupted him.  


"Yes I was, I _was_ better than you. I was an addict, I was a damn dealer but I at least loved my son, I wanted to change for him! You never gave a fuck. You're to blame for most of his problems, you neglected him. You refused to take him to a hospital when needed, then abandoned him because you couldn't cope with him. Not satisfied with that, years later you left him to die in the street so you could finally steal his money! What the fuck is wrong with you, Linda? ANSWER ME, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME HAVE MY SON?" Anthony's face was red and he was crying, his hands closed tight in a fist, suppressing the temptation to beat her. 

Linda appeared annoyed by her ex's anger. "I wanted him to fucking disappear, that's why!" she answered through clenched teeth. "You knew my mother had money. How could I be sure that you wouldn't come back to claim the kid's part later? I _did_ want Frank at the beginning, that's why I wouldn't let you see him often. I was afraid that you'd take him away. Then things changed, I got fed up with him and yes, it was just about money. You were a piece of shit just like me, why trust you? The same answer applies to the second time I abandoned him: money. Too bad that I had to wait so long because of that ex-friend who told my mother about the kid, she'd have never known about him otherwise..."  


Anthony walked in circles, a caged wild animal with contained fury. "You're a _monster_ , Linda. Do...do you realise it's your son you're talking about?"   


"A monster? Fuck, I did my good deed! Do you know what it's like to take care of a baby for four years? _Four fucking years_ and he was still like a baby! Crawling, drooling, pissing his pants and doing nothing else than screaming and crying! Putting up with that for 18 years is unthinkable! You should just be thankful that I was patient for that long and I didn't kill the thing!" She paused and seemed pensive, smirking.  


I forgot about everything and attempted to get up, but Greg grabbed my arm and sent me back to the ground. "Stay put!" he hissed. 

It was easier said than done. I wanted to kill Linda, I wanted her to suffer while I screamed at her for all the pain she had caused Frankie. Nonetheless I conformed and kept quiet, listening to Linda spill out her venom.  


"I considered doing it, but it was too risky, so I just dumped him. And you should definitely thank me for lying to you, I spared you a lot of time and money. Imagine having been stuck with a retarded kid all this time!"  


"DON'T YOU EVER _DARE_ CALLING FRANKIE THAT AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME? NEVER!" Anthony shouted. "I would have lived for him, I would have done everything to make him happy and I'd have proudly told everybody that he was my son!"  


"Oh, how sweet! And you'd have raised him with your boyfriend, right? When did you become a fag, Iero? You were so good in bed that I'd have nev..."  


"That...is the only thing I have to thank you for. After you destroyed me, I found my real self," Iero uttered in her face with a cooing voice. He casually looked at his clock and I copied him. The police would be there at any moment. They should have been _already_ there. "Now...I had enough of your shit, you make me sick, you're the worst scum I've ever met. Tell me what you want, I wanna see how much more I can hate you."  


"I want to negotiate." She kept glancing around and it gave me an uneasy feeling. I didn't know whether she was just worried about being seen or if she was waiting for someone.  


"Negotiate what? I told you I won't negotiate my son," Anthony stated.  


"Who cares about your son? I only care about my freedom. You free me and my husband of charges..." So they were married. "...and we'll deposit a generous amount of money in the bank for your big toddler. Enough for you and that other faggot who lives with him to enjoy, too."  


Anthony rubbed his face with both hands, then ran them through his growing, dark brown hair with a sonorous air intake. He exhaled and bit his thumb just like Frankie did when concentrating. 

Why wasn't he answering? Was he doubting? Was he considering the offer? Where the fuck were the police?  


I was on edge and ready to jump to the scene when Tony began to laugh. At first it was just a chocked sound at the back of his throat, but it gradually metamorphosed into a clear snicker and finished with a burst of laughter. Linda observed him confused, smiling with shame at the people that gave them odd looks. 

Only after a while he sobered up, walked to her and grabbed her chin. "It's a NO."  


"What? Are you crazy like your son or what?"  


"Maybe," He grinned. "but I don't want any dirty money, I had enough of that in my past. It'll be dirty as long as you and the fucking mafioso you call your husband are walking the streets. No, thanks."  


"Oh, come on! Tell me what you want, everybody has a price...you couldn't have changed that much..." she persisted, getting dangerously closer and caressing Anthony's chest. He slapped her hand off. 

I was focused on them, it was all I could see and hear. Then Greg nudged my arm and nodded towards the right, behind Anthony. A man dressed in gray jeans and a black sweatshirt with the hood on was slowly approaching him. I felt my chest tighten. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing would come out. It was when I got a glimpse of metal shining under the last rays of sun that I stood up like ejected, only to be knocked down by someone tugging violently at my blazer. 

While I perceived every millisecond of my fall, I heard the desperate voices around me.  


"TONY, WATCH OUT BEHIND YOU!"  


"DAMON, NO!"  


"Fuck!" I flapped my arms around and somehow seized some branches, not reaching the floor. 

With my face against the bush and ignoring the sting from the scratches I'd gotten, I looked back just in time to see Anthony turn at an amazing speed and get a hold of the man's hand that was wielding the knife. Without releasing it and as they struggled, Iero discharged his knee hard on the other's crotch, sending him to the ground. They continued to fight for the weapon, grunting and cursing; but it didn't last long. Anthony had the guy pinned down, sitting on his stomach. With a precise twist applied to the attacker's wrist the knife veered direction. We all screamed, but Tony didn't seem to hear us. He rested his weight on the handle and pushed down. Everything went silent. I closed my eyes and could hear the blade cutting through flesh.  


"Gerard..." Bob was talking to me. I couldn't respond, my ears had become aware of a more important sound: sirens.  


Linda was sitting on the floor, holding her man. Blood gushed through the open wound on his shoulder, creating a puddle that got quickly absorbed on the pebbled path. He would survive, it was close to his arm. Anthony was on his feet, knife in hand and staring at them. He was trembling, sobbing, doubting.  


Linda glared at him. "Fuck off, Iero."   


"Wh-why did you have to b-be so stupid, woman? I told you to stop any contact with them!" who Linda had called Damon reproached her. She had evidently done this by herself and he followed her.  


"I know, but we had the cops on our heels anyway!"  


"That...is y-your fault, too. You're fucking stupid. And I s-still can't believe you...had a kid with _this_." The man pointed at Tony and sneered. 

The named one tensed.  


"We have to intervene, I'm afraid of what Anthony might do," I told Greg. He assented and we both got up.  


Bob stopped us. "Bad idea. The police know you both, if they see you here they'll ask many questions. Let me take care of this."  


"Ok..." I agreed. 

Bob left our hiding place and decidedly neared Anthony.  


"Bob? What are you..."  


"Shh..." He made him drop the knife and guided him away from the couple, to where we could hear them better. 

I distantly saw three policeman and so did Tony, who gasped with fear.  


Thankfully, Bob was there to calm him down. "Tony...Gerard and Greg are here too, though I don't think the cops should see them. You and Greg alerted them about this beforehand, so I'm sure there won't be any problem. Anyway I'll stay and tell them that I witnessed it all if necessary, we can say I'm a friend who was casually passing by or something like that,"   


"O-okay....thanks."  


"Tell me, how did you do to react so quickly? It was...wow!" Bob asked Anthony, always trying to lighten the mood. The men in uniform were _just_ stepping -late- into the action.  


"I learned more than one lesson during those two years in jail." Tony smiled. _Frankie's smile_. 

Before facing the police, Anthony crouched and pretended to be tying his sneakers, looking at me through the bush. "Go home to Frankie and leave this in my hands, it'll be over soon."  


******

I was shaking from head to toes when Greg and I went back to the van. Bob would stay with Anthony in case he needed some support to deal with the police, then he'd drive him home.  


I checked my phone and there was a message from Ray: 'Dad just called. Leaving Frankie with neighbor, please let me know you're ok.' 

I tried to relax, taking several deep breaths until my pulse stabilized and I was able to type, "We're all fine and the police got them."  


"Oh, fuck...well, I think I can drive now." Greg sighed, also calmer. I knew he was dying to be with Anthony.  


"It's about to be over." My voice was barely audible. 

We didn't talk for what the ride lasted, still too shocked. I looked for the first aid kit in the back of the vehicle and used that time to clean the small cuts on my face. I let my hair loose, got rid of the blazer and glasses and put my hoodie back on. I needed to be presentable and feel like myself again.  


Greg dropped me home and took off to go wait for Tony, telling me that they would probably pay us a visit later. I didn't bother entering our house first, I went straight to my neighbor's.

"Hi, Gerard!" The tall, young woman opened the door with a wide smile. It was a simple, yet significant gesture that, after the tense moments I had lived, brought some warmth to my heart and chased the angst away.  


"Hi, Jennifer! Thank you so much for taking care of Frankie. Did he behave?" I asked, making a mental note to not be too affectionate with my boyfriend in front of her.  


"Your brother's too sweet for words. A few minutes after your friend brought him, he started looking around for Kevin. When I told him that my son was sleeping he quickly turned the TV off. Kevin can't hear it from his room, but Frankie insisted that he didn't want to make any noise. He asked me for some pencils and paper and has been drawing quietly since then. He even whispered all the time!" she commented. All I could do was smile. I imagined where that attitude came from. Kevin reminded him of the first years of his own life and therefore he would never do anything that could scare or bother the little kid. "I'm gonna go get him, he's in the kitchen with my husband."  


"Okay!" I replied.  


Jennifer had left the door open, so I could see her reappear in the corridor with Frankie, who was kissing the giant Saint Bernard dog goodbye. 

As soon as he saw me he ran, covering the remaining distance in seconds. "G-gee, you're b-back!" he screamed and fell in my arms. He looked up and his eyes told me everything I had been needing to hear and he couldn't say in front of Jennifer. But then he frowned. "Wh-what happened to your f-face?"  


"Oh, nothing. I ran into a tree, but I'm home now and everything's fine." I said with a grin, kissing Frankie's head.

I held him tight, not minding that we couldn't do more at the moment. All I wanted, all I needed was a hug. To feel Frank close to me and take conscience that we were alive and safe. We were together, we loved each other. What needed a change had changed, and things would be easier from now on. 


	74. Chapter 74

_Something changed in this heart of mine_   
_and I'm so glad that you showed me._   
_Funny how I never felt so high,_   
_it's a feelin' that I know,_   
_I know I'll never forget._

We were right to suppose that Anthony would have no major trouble dealing with the police. For starters, the fact that they were late was in his favor. The incident with Linda's husband could have been prevented if the cops had been there in twenty minutes like it was first arranged. However, if they'd been punctual, the guy might have escaped; so maybe the delay served for something.

Bob played his part anyway, going to the police station with Tony and telling them that he only knew him and his son through mutual friends. He alleged that he had casually been strolling through the park at the time of Tony's argument with Linda. Perceiving that something was wrong he'd preventively stayed near, getting a front-row view of the attack.  


From what we heard, there also was a real casual witness who testified. This, together with Damon's injury not being too serious, had left Anthony completely free of charges. Linda and Damon didn't have the same luck.  


The following weeks were plagued with lawyer meetings, citations, declarations, countless phone calls and tons of stress. We managed to keep Frankie aside of the procedure long enough with the help of his psychiatrist. Goldberg presented a document to the judge establishing that such level of pressure was contraindicated for Frank's mental condition and that the boy should never be confronted with his mother. His presence was only required once to retell what had happened after Linda picked him up at the institution.

The rest of the time we did our best to keep him entertained; playing with him, taking him to the park and generally spoiling him. Frankie wasn't stupid, though. He knew something was going on. There _had_ to be a reason for him to have to stay with Ray, Bob, or my mother so often. And he asked, he insisted. I couldn't tell him the truth, not in the middle of that legal mess; but I assured him that it was all for good, that it'd be over soon and then things would be normal again. _Even better._  


In spite of our fear, justice was relatively fast to arrive. We were immensely happy to know that we'd be able to avoid what we had been dreading the most. That morning, when Anthony called and practically screamed on the phone that a trial would not be needed, I jumped on the couch like a little kid. Frankie had no idea what all the joy was about, yet he didn't question me. He hopped on with me and we jumped together, embraced. 

Several minutes later I remembered that Tony was still hanging on the line and I asked for the details. It turned out that the police had gotten the ultimate proof to incriminate the couple. Sure, all the fake documentation and the amount of money to their name had augured no bright future for them since the beginning. Then the testimonies of the procurator, the director of the institution, and Grace -who had traveled for it before being asked to- had buried them even deeper. But it was Linda herself who completely condemned them. Terrified, seeing no way out and probably advised by her lawyer, she ended up confessing, desperate to have her punishment reduced. She detailed all of their plans to get their hands on Frank's money and inclusively displayed a poorly convincing act of repentance, claiming that money had blinded her.  


The two were sentenced with many charges: fraud, alteration and falsification of documents, extortion, death threats, assault and misappropriation of assets. Linda was also accused of abandonment of a person -aggravated by the bond and Frank's condition- and for depriving Anthony of his son. After some pushing, they accepted Goldberg's declaration as valid and added neglect and maltreatment of a minor to the list. The doctor had been treating that subject with Frank, discussing his dreams and memories to help him get over his psychological trauma; so he was informed.  


To resume, Linda and Damon would be locked up for many, many years with no possibility of buying their way out. They had no family or friends who could -or wanted- to help them and they were officially broke. All of the money had been returned to Frankie's bank account to be administered by Anthony -or by me as second alternative. Linda's mother's house -the only possession she'd truly left to her daughter- was sold to reimburse the money that had been already spent.  


******

The first thing that came to our minds when we thought about the money was Frank's meds. Before the last events, trying to get them for free had seemed like a good idea. We had refrain from doing so only because we couldn't trust anything coming from the government as long as Damon was free. He was finally out of the way, but the truth was that now we could actually _pay_ for the medication; the money we had recovered had always been, for the most part, intended for that. Getting them for free would make us feel like we were stealing that privilege from people who couldn't obtain them any other way, so we decided to keep on buying them.  


Something was different, though: having more money meant we could afford better medication. Anthony and I discussed the issue and considered that Frank had the right to opine about his health. We left most decisions in his hands.  


The three of us visited Goldberg's office to carefully listen to all the options we had. Frankie asked a lot of questions - _demanding_ that Mark answered with the truth- and took a long time to meditate, proud of the adult responsibility we'd laid on him. He agreed to having something to counteract the shaking which, as much as he put up with it, he hated. It was highly irksome for someone who loved all artistic and recreative activities that required the use of his hands. He refused, however, to add anxiolytics to his daily medical menu. He didn't appear to understand their function, neither was he interested in doing it; he simply stated that he had enough meds to take and was okay like that. His father and I couldn't be happier with his choice.

Lastly, we talked about the pros and cons of the antipsychotics Frankie was currently on versus the similar, although more expensive ones they gave him at the institution. The conclusion was that they were basically the same, and we knew from Grace that both worked fine for him. Frankie hurried to say that he would still take the same amount of pills and didn't mind about the hallucinations, but he opted for going back to his old meds. His only reason to do so was coquetry; those weren't particularly known to alter weight or make people hungrier. Even if I liked him the way he was and I'd told him that millions of times, it was his body after all. _He_ was the one who had to feel comfortable in it.

Notwithstanding the switch of medication, his eating habits didn't change much at all. He was still hungry most of the time and would blush whenever I reminded him that he didn't have an excuse anymore. He maintained that the doctor had lied. We continued to control his meals as much as possible without being too exigent. It had never been about him being thin, but healthy.

Frank didn't stop seeing his imaginary friends, he just learned to ignore them when necessary. It was funny to observe him make twice the effort to concentrate on whatever he was doing, once in a while glancing sideways and giggling. He enjoyed their company and we wouldn't take that from him.

The second topic we took into consideration was Grace. We would have wanted the nurse to move somewhere closer to us -we even offered to help her; but she wasn't ready to leave the kids that were under her care. Many were still too young, she was attached to them and knew that they needed her. Frankie understood, he'd been in their place. He told Grace to stay there and give them love, only asking her to visit more often. We resolved to paying for Grace's plane tickets when she wasn't able to, so she could travel every one or two months at least.

******

A week before Christmas, we told Frankie _part_ of the truth: that his grandma -the one who used to visit him at the institution- had left him a lot of money. He scarcely remembered the woman, yet he was very sad to know she'd died years ago. He ignored the mention of money and just cried for her, hugging the teddy bear she had given him when he was a child.  


To lighten the mood, we asked him what it was that he'd like to buy the most. It only took him ten seconds to respond and what he said brought me, Greg and Anthony to tears: a bigger house so we could all live together.  


Maybe it was the mind-blowing emotion and happiness racing through our brains, hearts, veins. Maybe we were simply crazy. But ten minutes later we were out looking for our next house, walking around the neighborhood in search of 'for sale' signs. We wanted something close to my work.

After spending two days exploring, consulting, taking pictures and notes, phoning people and deliberating, we decided on a pretty white chalet with red roof tiles ten blocks from our current address. It wasn't luxurious or too big, but the kitchen and the dinning room were spacious and it had two identical bedrooms and a large backyard where I pictured Frankie running around with Puppy. The building didn't need any crucial reparation or painting, it was ready and waiting to be inhabited.

Again we acted by impulse, our excitement guiding us. In only one day and with the help of Ray, Bob, my mother, Alicia and Tony's band mates, we moved all our stuff to the new domicile. Even Mikey appeared, willing to cooperate though complaining about me being completely nuts. The house looked kind of empty, but our Christmas decoration -including the huge tree we'd bought- made up for it. Those holidays would be Frankie's first ones with us, and we wanted it to be special.

We made Christmas also the day of the official inauguration, and our friends and family celebrated it with us. None of us could take our eyes off Frank. The muscles of his face must have been sore the following day after so much smiling, sharing the festivity with a big family of his own.  


Santa was particularly generous with him, too. I don't think any other boy -or kid- received as many presents as he did. Toys, plushies, boardgames, videogames, markers, pencils, clothes and even a purple vest and a name tag for Puppy. And yes, Frankie actually believed in Santa Claus; I knew it when he said he'd been a good boy and questioned with a serious face whether he would get him more presents from now on. 

He explained that since there were many kids at the institution, Santa had to bring them small things so there would be enough for everybody. The old, white-bearded man himself had told them that when they saw him one night.  


Frankie was lucky. I always wished no one had _ever_ told me Santa didn't exist. Grace had somehow kept the magic alive for Frank, or perhaps he had just refused to believe any other version. Either way we wouldn't be the ones to destroy that fantasy, no matter how old he was. Besides, it was fun to pretend it was all real again.

That night when we raised our cups for a toast, my other arm around Frank's waist, I silently thanked God. I'd never been religious, but after that year I couldn't deny that there _had_ to be someone or something pulling at the strings. Call it God or just a higher power, someone had wanted Frankie and I to meet, fall in love, save each other. Something had made things work through thick and thin, brought Anthony and his son together, replaced pain and sadness with smiles and affection.  


We were suddenly dragged away from the table as Ray screamed 'cheesy time!'. We found ourselves under the open front door, my mother pointing at the lush mistletoe that hung over it. I had forgotten about it until then and Frankie was rather confused, but everybody was chanting for a kiss so we complied. We kissed long and peaceably while the old clock my mother had lent me gave the last 12 a.m. ding-dongs. I could _hear_ Frankie's thoughts, or they might as well have been my own: _'Are we in a movie?'_

******

The holidays went by and it was time for Frankie to go to school. We'd enrolled him in a private one that accepted him even if it was the middle of the school year. They would put him in the second level for what was left of the term, so he'd get used to the routine and the environment and they could evaluate him. Then the following year they would decide whether it was better for him to stay in that level or move to the next one.

The weekend prior to his first day, we visited my mother. Upon surveying Frank's appearance, she had the very bad idea of suggesting to have his hair cut for school. Frankie had never wanted anything done to it since I met him, so it had grown well past his shoulders. I loved it, but the tips had started to open and it didn't look that healthy anymore. It could use some trimming. He didn't agree, and all hell broke loose. He screamed at my mom and every one of us who tried to calm him down, threw things, pushed me away and ran to hide under Mikey's bed.

"Well, I guess that taking him to a hairdresser is out of the question..." My mother chuckled.  


"Definitely," I assented. That could end up with the place upside down and several people's asses kicked; not to mention the series of insults Frank would have prepared for them.  


"What to do then?"  


"How about... _getting him the fuck out from under my bed_?" Mikey protested. "I have to study."  


"W-WON'T COME OUT, L-LEAVE ME AL-ALONE!" came Frank's scream from his hiding place.  


"Baby, come on! Mom didn't mean cutting your hair short, we'd never do that to you!" I tried.  


"SH-SHUT UP, N-NO ONE WILL C-CUT MY HAIR! AS-ASSHOLES! M-MEAN ASSHOLES ALL OF Y-YOU!"  


"Frankie..." Alicia got on the floor and lifted the bed's cover. Frank had the hood of his shirt over his head, protecting his most valued treasure. "See, I always cut my friends' hair. I love to do it and no one has ever complained so far..."  


"I did!" Mikey chimed in, grinning.  


"Oh...please, Mikey. You have a nest over there so you can't talk about _hair_ ," she retorted. "As I was telling you, Frankie...if you trusted me, I could cut your hair."  


"N-NO, I LIKE IT L-LONG!"  


"I know, I know. I like it too, I _love_ your hair. Don't I always say it?"  


"Y-yes..."  


"I'd only cut it a little bit, a few inches so it'd feel softer and look prettier. I'd give it a better shape in the front, too," she explained playing with a lock that slid out from the boy's hood.  


"D-dunno..." Frankie doubted.  


"Please? I promise it'll be still long and you -and Gerard- will love it." Alicia offered her hand and Frankie took it, allowing her to drag him out.  


At first, Frank wouldn't stay quiet in the chair, deadly scared about his hair's fate. As soon as Alicia warned him that so much movement could cause her to ruin it, he became a statue.  


"Shave it! Shave it!" Mikey cheered. I guessed he would never give up on trying to anger Frankie. It was one of his favorite sports.  


"N-NO! F-FUCK YOU!"  


"I'm gonna shave _your balls,"_ Alicia told her boyfriend.  


"Oh, yeah? And then what would you play with?" He wiggled his eyebrows. Eww. "Better shave Gerard's, he's done it before."  


"Y-you shaved your b-balls?" Frankie gasped, looking at me for an affirmation.  


"What? NO!"  


"Yes, you did!" Mikey insisted. "Once you said that they s-"  


"Enough, Mikey. Not true," I stopped him. As far as I knew, that had never happened. I _might_ have done some crazy things while being wasted, but if I had shaved my balls I would have noticed afterwards...right?

Mikey eventually shut up and let Alicia do her job. Frankie was not only satisfied with the result, he _loved_ it. He kept on looking at himself in the mirror and touching his hair, shaking his head and asking us what we thought. He looked wonderful. His hair was now of a similar length to the first time I saw him, just above his shoulders. Alicia had cut it into two different layers, so it slightly curled without having too much volume -which he hated. It also made it seem darker, his light eyes sticking out. The front had been done scale-shaped, his fringe combed to a side and still long enough to be tucked behind the ear if necessary. He was adorable with that lock of hair partially falling on his face, but it wouldn't be practical at school.

*******

With only one day left for his school debut, Frank was so nervous that we thought he wouldn't make it. He walked in circles, talked to himself, checked his backpack every hour, hardly slept and refused to take sedatives because 'it'd make him more stupid for school'.

Amazingly -or not that much knowing him- he was the first one to wake up in the morning, getting dressed at record speed -he could wear whatever he wanted- and jumping on Tony and Greg's bed screeching, 'Daddies, get up or I'm gonna be late!'  


Since it was a special occasion and we knew how scared Frankie was, the three of us escorted him to school. Before we got off the car I gave my boyfriend a good-luck kiss. Once we entered the building, I became his uncle for everybody. Our reality was a delicate subject. We had legal approval, yet we couldn't expect everybody to understand and accept it. Anthony and Greg had offered to hide their relationship too, but Frankie and I voted against it. That place was full of people who dealt with and fought against discrimination every day of their life. I thought it'd be ridiculous if a boy was discriminated there for having two male parents. 

When later that day we went to pick Frank up and he introduced his dads to some teachers, I could feel that they had nothing to fear. The women smiled and they all congratulated the couple for how polite, sweet and kind to everybody their son was.  


The second week, Frankie began to take the school bus every morning. It wasn't an easy decision for us; we were nearly devastated to see him board a vehicle that wasn't hours. The people in charge had to endure an exhausting interrogatory until we were sure that they conformed to the required security measures: buses in good condition, qualified drivers, children-proof windows and enough staff to watch over the students. You couldn't call our concern exaggeration when we were talking about a bus full of kids with mental -and in some cases also physical- problems. On the other hand we were conscious that Frank needed more independence, and it would also help him make more friends besides the ones in his class.

That being said, we weren't strong enough to completely cut the ties. In our defense, it was Frankie who asked for things to be the way they ended up being: he went to school on the bus, but Anthony and Greg -or Ray if they were out of town playing- drove him home. Feeling left out because of my work schedule, I would sometimes beckon at the bus driver to continue on his way so I could drop off Frankie myself.  


We were a very particular family who loved each other too much to be separated. That included Puppy. If Frankie wasn't home, our dog would jump into whoever's car was started because he knew it'd take him to his owner.  


As weeks passed bye, Frank enjoyed school more and more; even if it was certainly hard for him and he'd often leave frustrated and cursing. He knew that he was there to learn. No one would get mad at him for making mistakes or asking many questions. All the teachers were nice and patient and the lessons were simplified, dynamic and divided in short periods to keep the pupils' attention. We were all proud of Frankie for just trying and he was obstinate enough to not give up.  


He would get lazy at times, during those days when everything felt too complicated for his troubled, medicated brain. He never asked us to skip school, though. The teachers didn't force him if he didn't feel up to learning. Instead he was allowed to stay in the art room where he could draw, paint, or do craft activities. They also had a music room where Frankie could sit in front of the drums and show off what Greg had taught him. He was still rather messy and rough to play, but was slowly getting a handle on the rhythm.  


His interest in music had increased since he finally dared to go see his father's band play. It was in a big place not far from home and Anthony had been told that it never got too packed, so we talked to Frank and convinced him to give it a try; if the music was too loud for him, I'd take him home. At the last moment Ray had an idea that worked perfectly: we got Frankie ear plugs. He could still hear, but the volume was significantly reduced. His fear quickly disappeared when he realised that the sound was just okay for him, and he enjoyed the show like the Homeless Souls' number one fan he was. Knowing most of the songs from being at some rehearsals or hearing recordings, he stood in front of the stage and sang along. We couldn't make him sit. For the last song, Anthony invited him on and proudly told everybody that Frankie was his beloved son and would share the microphone with Jack.  


From that night, after being on stage and listening to the applauses, Frank turned into an habitue of the school's music classroom. He announced that one day he would learn to play drums well enough and he also wanted to take singing lessons.  


Besides art in all its forms, the other thing Frankie adored about school was making friends. Friends that were somehow like him and wouldn't make fun of the way he talked, the things he said, his glasses or his eyes. Of course there were a few exceptions, just like everywhere; although, being outnumbered, there wasn't much those mean kids could do, and the teachers always insisted on inculcating egalitarian ideas.

Even though Frankie continued to be Mel's friend and they frequently met at the park, he also made a best friend at school. His name was James. He was my age, much larger than Frank and with a coarse, deep voice; but with the mentality of a 10-year old.

Frankie had never lost that sixth sense most children owned, the same that Mel had once demonstrated while talking to her father about Frank. They could see people's souls, their essence. They treated them according to that, regardless of the way they looked or their chronological age. The moment they exchanged their first words, Frankie knew how to behave around James without needing anyone's instructions.  


James' story had some points in common with Frankie's, his adoptive mother had told us about it. Due to complications during birth, his brain had lacked oxygen for too long and was permanently damaged. Upon hearing the news -though no one knew what the real consequences would be- his parents had chosen to give him away for adoption. For more than 20 years he lived in a orphanage, until this elderly woman started working there as a volunteer and grew too fond of him. Together with her husband, she decided to adopt James and provide him with the education he'd never had. 

This was James' second year at the school and he and Frankie were in the same class. The boy spoke perfectly fine and was notably smart on the intellectual level, although contrary to Frank -who could act childish but experienced the same feelings as any person his age- James was one hundred percent a child emotionally.  


Frank and James had complemented each other from the start. Frankie took care of James and snapped at anyone who mocked his friend for not acting like the big boy he appeared to be: 'C-can't you see he's j-just a kid?'. James got into bodyguard mode if any older, taller boy made fun of Frankie's height: 'He's small but can kick your ass hard. And if he doesn't, I will.' Frankie helped James in art class while James assisted Frankie with calculations or anything that might be giving him trouble. They fought a lot too, especially when they got together at our house or James' to do homework; but their arguments never lasted.

******  


"N-no...no, you sh-shut up! Shh...l-lemme think! N-no...mess, th-there, no. Is...it's n-not that. A...a p-path and...and f-flowers, maybe. Y-yes birds. N-no, not that...no..." 

Frankie seemed to be discussing something, and at first I though he was having that conversation with James. After minutes of not hearing the other boy say a word, I stopped what I was doing on the kitchen's counter and gave him a look. Frank was talking to himself and basically raving. Nodding, shaking his head, hitting it with his hand and waving around. It often happened when he forced his brain past its limits while doing homework, especially maths.  


James tilted his head and frowned. "Frankie...you're saying crazy things." In his innocence, he couldn't help but find it funny. He didn't know much about mental illnesses and didn't take any kind of medication himself. Failing to obtain a reaction from the younger one, he pinched his nose. "Frankie!"  


"Ouch! Y-yeah...what?"  


"You were saying crazy things again," James repeated.  


"D-don't say that, as-asshole! I...I'm n-not crazy!" Frankie whined angrily.  


"Frankie...James didn't mean it in a bad way, calm down," I came in to help.  


"No I didn't! It's just that...what you were saying made no sense and you were doing weird things." James played with his middle-length hair nervously. He always felt bad when something he said hurt Frankie.  


"Oh...I...d-don't know. S-sometimes people say I w-was talking and...and I d-didn't know I was t-talking. M-my head gets f-fucked up. Y-yeah. S-sorry, James...d-don't remember. B-but...but this...TH-THIS IS SHIT AND...AND I C-CAN'T DO IT! M-MAKES ME MAD AND I'M T-TOO STUPID AND C-CAN'T, GEE!" He threw his folder to the floor and cried over the table.

It was a frequent scene and we couldn't blame him. School -even a second grade level- was a real challenge for someone in Frank's condition who hadn't gotten the advisable training and stimulus during his first years of life. Specialists recommended to start the learning process much earlier than usual in cases like his. Frank had gone to some sort of school for barely three years when he was 8, and it was evident that the teacher didn't pay him the needed attention; he had only learned basic writing and reading in all that time.

"Shh...it's ok, you're too tired now. You don't have to do it for tomorrow, the teacher won't get angry." I hugged him and kissed his head. I wished I could comfort him better, I knew other kind of kisses would have a greater effect in him.  


"I...I kn-know, but I w-want to. M-most kids will h-have it done!"  


"It doesn't matter, everyone does things at their own pace. Don't be so hard on yourself, drink your milk before it goes cold." I placed the smoky cup of chocolate in front of him, handing James his and leaving a plate with cookies on the center of the table.  


"B-but...but..."  


"I'll help you." James smiled at him. "I can explain things many many many many many times, really! I don't mind, I like playing teacher! Want me too?"  


"K-kay...then I'll h-help you c-color the drawing you m-made at school," Frank assented, drying the tears with the sleeve of his hoodie..  


"Deal! I'm oh so bad at that! I sucky suck." James giggled while he sipped at his milk. "You'll do it much better."  


"N-no but...I'll _h-help_ you. W-won't do it f-for you, l-lazy-ass!" Frank clarified.  


"I...I know..."  


"Frankie...that's fine, but have in mind that James won't do the calculations for you either," I pointed out.  


"Wh-why?"  


"Because you'll never learn if you don't practice. He'll just explain things to you and help you, okay?" I stared at Frank, awaiting.  


"B-but...I c-can't!"  


"Yes, you can. You either do as I say or wait until tomorrow when you're less tired, James won't do your homework."  


"I could!" James asserted happily.  


I patted his back. "I know, but it'll be better if you just play to be the teacher like you said."  


It had taken me some time to get used to the novelties. In the beginning, when James would visit us, it was awkward to have another boy to watch over besides Frankie. A boy who was really an adult and didn't even look much younger. At a point I relaxed and attempted to know him for what he was inside, like Frankie had done. I forgot about the exterior and centered on the intangible until that transcended everything, allowing me to see the kid James was.

"Oh, okay! Do you have brownies?"  


"Uh...I think I do! Frankie...?"  


"Y-yes, I want b-brownies!" he jumped.  


I rolled my eyes. "Of course you'd want brownies. That was _not_ the question. I was waiting for you to tell me if you understood that James is only going to..."  


 "...ex-explain, yeah. K-kay, cruel p-person," he huffed.  


"Cruel person! You're _so_ funny, Frankie!" James burst into laughter, slamming the table and making some milk from the two cups spill. "Oops!"  


"It's ok, I'll go get something to clean it up," I resigned, still smiling. It was just another day playing the 'uncle' facet of my new life. And I loved it. I didn't mind pretending for a couple of hours. I knew things would be back to normal once Frankie and I were alone or with the other couple of the house. Then we'd act like the hopelessly in love boyfriends we were.

All the changes that befell us after Linda and Damon went to prison not only made our lives better and easier; they also strengthened our relationship. We didn't need to refrain ourselves in front of Tony and Greg. Of course we kept certain things private, but there was no need to break a make-out session on the couch just because one of them stepped in. They'd laugh it off, apologize and leave us to it. It was the same if we caught them, only that Frankie would sometimes stay and 'awww'.  


Living with them also meant that I didn't always have to play the father role with Frankie. I was thankful for that because it felt confusing and odd for both of us. During the weeks where Anthony was home, I could just be Frankie's boyfriend and let his dad be the one to reprimand him if necessary.  


Frank's new activities and friends left us with less time together alone, but I didn't mind that; he was oozing happiness, still finding all this sudden normality that surrounded him strange and exhilarating. I felt ecstatic for him, and our love was too strong to let a little time reduction intimidate it. We made each minute together worth an hour and weekends were completely ours, sacred.

We'd never had sex again, but we often made love. An interchange of kisses, caresses, friction, strokes. Words delicately whispered in each other's ears sending shivers down our spines. Nape hairs bristling, pearly sweat forming on our foreheads, hearts racing. Eyes ajar, fixed looks, swollen lips and fingers brushing damp locks off blushed faces. Pure passion, pleasure and love despoiled of any discomfort, awkward procedures or possible pain. Our favorite way, our natural way, our intercourse of body, heart and soul.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this was the last chapter...but there's still the epilogue.
> 
> Said epilogue was originally just part of this chapter (that's why this ending doesn't sound like an ending), but I later decided it'd be better to post it separately. 
> 
> p.s.: The James in this chapter, is James Dewees. :)


	75. Epilogue

_One night during May..._

Frankie and I had gone out. The pitch-black sky was starry, welcomely shorn of clouds and crowned with a bright, white full moon. The soft, cool breeze that alleviated the heat of the imminent summer had been so inviting when we opened our bedroom's window that we couldn't refuse.

We walked hand in hand, laughing and kissing no matter who saw or whether they liked it. We arrived downtown and Frankie's eyes didn't suffice him to behold the city that laid before us. He looked around, pointed at buildings, asked me what they were. He wanted to see them all closer. Why wouldn't I comply? There was no hurry, no planned date; only two people in love walking down the street.

Money was required for our next destination. It was only for three seconds that I let go of his hand to fish into my wallet. He was cheering, jumping up and down, applauding hyperactively. For three seconds I lowered my head and he was gone, he got ahead.

I ran. I elbowed my way through people and didn't care about the ones calling after me or what they might be saying. I knew where Frankie was going and I _had_ to reach him.

It was crowded. Strident sounds, screams, people passing me by fast. And I saw him; I spotted him bathed in red and white lights, but I couldn't get to him. He was dancing, just like in that unforgettable night one year ago. His hair hovering as he turned round and round, twisting his whole body and shaking his hips clad in tight blue jeans. He looked chaotically beautiful, sexy; yet I had to go for him or I might lose him.

Frank was encircled by noise, blinding lights and confusion; but he didn't seem to care. He just wanted to dance. Everybody was too close to him, so close that some crashed against him. He stumbled and fell, and all of a sudden he looked scared and small down there. Maybe hurt.

I pushed all the obstacles away. They cursed and shoved me back and the lights made it hard to see. Frankie was only a few feet away from me, but it felt like miles. I crouched in front of him and helped him up. He smiled astonishingly wide and then his lips found mine.  


"Fuck, baby! Why'd you run like that?" I questioned. 

Frankie didn't hear me. He couldn't hear me. He kept on looking at me, the flickering lights reflecting on his glasses. Reds and yellows and greens playing in his irises.  


That's when the music changed. The invigorating notes of hard rock gave way to a ballad and we both grinned.  


"I love you," I blurted out, stirred up. 

This time he heard, he perceived the particular emotion behind my words and his eyes shined. "L-love you too, s-sorry for es-escaping. Th-the disco called m-me!" he replied.  


"I'm here now, it's okay." My hands rested on the small of his back as I brought him closer. I sensed fingers graze my shoulders and soon his arms were wrapped around my neck.

We danced with our eyes shut. We kissed as if nobody was watching us. We listened to the music and nothing else.

Who cared what the world around us was doing, thinking? Who cared about that, when I couldn't discern which heart belonged to each of us? They beat in unison, I could feel them; we had become one. And as one same person we carried on dancing. Inexpertly shuffling to the rhythm, swaying, spinning like a wind-up toy.

  
_I met a blind man who taught me how to see._  
 _Yeah, a blind man who could change night into day._  
 _And if a -I can, I'm gonna make you come with me._  
 _Yeah, because here comes the sun,_  
 _and we'll be chasing all the clouds away._  
 _~~~*~~~  
_ _Don't make no sense lightin' candles,_  
 _there's too much moonlight in our eyes...._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it's over for real! I know comments are not very common on this site (such a pity), but if anyone read the story for the first time here, I'd love to know what you thought... Comments always make me happy. :)


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